


A Strange Case

by jl4223



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 68,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jl4223/pseuds/jl4223
Summary: A year after Tinder Stranger: Defense attorney Emily Graham will do anything to win her murder case, even it it means finding dirt on super-powered humans, but she never expected to find her fate entangled with the Sorcerer Supreme. (Slow burn; Dr. Strange comic/ MCU based, with references to Captain America: Civil War and tie-ins to X-Men, Daredevil, & Jessica Jones)





	1. Chapter 1

 

Emily Graham had never hated a human being more in her life than she hated the sixteen year-old killer sitting in front of her. But as his lawyer at Chao and Benowitz, it was her job to save his life.

Emily pushed back from her desk to look Stilton Lawrence in the eyes. The arrogant teenager sat with his arms crossed, a defensive posture that wouldn't win him any points with the jury.

"Okay Stilton," Emily said. "Let's go back to the beginning one more time…"

Stilton didn't look away from Emily, but his only answer to her was a shrug. Inside his eyes was the blatant stare of a boy who had lived a privileged life without consequences. And if she could see it, she worried the jury would, too.

Emily cleared her throat. "Stilton, a shrug won't work on the witness stand…"

Before she could finish the rest of her thought, the boy's father interrupted. "I don't see how reiterating what happened is going to be a good use of our time, Miss Graham. This is our third visit to your office, and at this point I'd like to see something concrete about your strategy for defending my son."

Emily thought she'd been pretty damn clear about her defense strategy, but she had grown used to being second-guessed. She looked younger than her thirty-six years, and even though she had a stellar record as a criminal attorney at Chao and Benowitz, she still had to prove herself to clients. And Brian Lawrence was a client who she treated with care. The Lawrence family had spent an unknown sum over the years to keep a Chao and Benowitz attorney on retainer. And now that their son was on trial for murder, and had cycled through three other defense attorneys inside Chao and Benowitz alone, Emily had been given strict instructions from civil court genius Linda Chao herself: get Stilton Lawrence acquitted of murder.

Emily took a deep breath to steady her thoughts as she addressed the boy's father. "Brian, in first degree murder cases with a similar profile to ours, cases where teenagers were tried as adults, the jury's verdict depended almost solely on how trustworthy they found the accused when he took the stand."

Brian clutched his thick hands into fists as he pinned her with his eyes. "So, what I'm hearing is that you are willing to risk my son's future on whether or not he can do a good job defending himself on the witness stand?"

Emily shook her head. "That's not exactly what I meant. I'm the best violent crimes defense attorney in this office, and I'm obviously going to do my part…"

"Which is doing what exactly?"

Beside his father, Stilton smirked.

Emily grit her teeth. "As I said, all of the research indicates…"

Brian let out a long, angry breath and leaned forward. "Look, Emily. Linda Chao is my retainer, and when she assured me that you were the best lawyer in this office for my son's case, I believed her. But I've been hearing some unsettling rumors about Jeri Hogarth leaving this firm, and taking her clients with her. Jeri's reputation as a criminal defense attorney here was impeccable, which makes me wonder… even with our history with Linda, would Stilton and I would be better served seeking out Jeri Hogarth?"

Emily bit back her panic. If she lost the Lawrence family to Hogarth, she could kiss her job goodbye. The entire firm was still reeling from Jeri's departure, desperate to fill the clientele void the notorious lawyer had left behind. "Mr. Lawrence, I can assure you that every minute of my time is devoted, and will continue to be devoted, to your son's case."

Brian Lawrence visibly relaxed at that statement. He edged back into his plush seat, nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. But I still feel like we're going around in circles here."

"I know what I'm doing, Mr. Lawrence. And part of saving your son from life in prison is to make sure we iron out his story for any… mishaps on the witness stand, especially since you have made it abundantly clear you won't accept a plea bargain."

Emily hadn't been happy when the Lawrence family had dismissed the D.A.'s plea bargain, a far lesser sentence of fifteen years, with Stilton eligible for parole in eight. It had been a gift. And one that Brian Lawrence had mocked before storming out of the D.A.'s office.

"My son will not waste his life sitting in a prison."

"If you feel that strongly about going to trial, then let me do my job." Emily switched her gaze from father to son. "Now, Stilton, pretend I'm sitting on the jury and explain to me why you killed your best friend."

Stilton shifted in his chair. "Well, like I said, Derrick was over at my house, and me and him were just playing Xbox, you know?"

Emily nodded. "A cooperative shooting game, is that right?"

Stilton licked his lips, nodded. His eyes stayed locked on Emily. "Yeah, but then Derrick goes, 'Hey, watch this.' And he starts moving his controller without touching it. Said he was using his mind. Then he was all like, 'Get your dad's gun. Let's see if we can shoot some shit without touching anything,' and I felt like I was moving outside myself, you know? Like he was controlling me…"

Emily had heard Stilton tell his story before, and every time he told it the little details kept changing. It was the telltale sign of a bad liar, but all she could do at this point was get his story as clean as she could. "So, Derrick manipulated you into getting your father's gun, is that right?"

Stilton licked his lips again. Another tell.

"Stilton, you need to be mindful of your body language. Your case begins in six weeks, and when you take the stand in your own defense, little gestures like fidgeting, licking your lips… the jury will see these and interpret them as if you might be hiding something. And if you're telling the truth, there's no need to be hide anything, is there?"

Stilton shook his head.

"Okay then. When you tell your story to me, and especially when you're cross-examined by the D.A., you're going to want to spend more time on the powers Derrick showed you for the first time that day. Make it about him, not you. Don't just  _tell_  the jury about your helplessness and your fear…  _show_  them." Emily fought back her gag reflex as she said, "Show them that any one of them would have pulled the trigger and killed Derrick if they'd been in your shoes that day, okay?"

It was another painful hour before Emily gained confidence in Stilton's story, and another hour after that for Brian Lawrence to end another barrage of unnecessary questions. When father and son finally strolled out of her office, Emily put her forehead down on her desk and closed her eyes.

She knew many defendants were trapped in the system, held hostage to the amount of money and power the D.A.'s office had at their disposal to prosecute. When Emily became a defense attorney, she had envisioned righting wrongs, watching the falsely accused be set free. Then the law bubble had burst, and all the offers for firms in Manhattan began to dry up. Emily was barely able to pay her bills, so she was relieved when Chao and Benowitz had given her an offer. She'd worked her butt off for them ever since. But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined defending a teen that showed no remorse for murder.

A knock on Emily's door interrupted her fantasies of jumping on a flight to Tahiti. She glanced up to find Foggy Nelson standing against the threshold to her office, a smile on his face.

"Bad day?" he said.

Foggy was like a younger brother to her, and always the first to send flowers to an associate or to get everyone to sign a card for an office birthday. She always wondered what a kind-hearted guy like Foggy was doing in a law firm like Chao and Benowitz. He seemed to have less of a stomach for this stuff than she did.

Emily shuffled her notes. "Haven't you heard? Linda gave me the Lawrence case."

"It's the talk of the office. Bets are down as to whether or not this case will get passed off to a lesser lawyer here."

"Not an option. Linda made that clear."

"That's the spirit." Foggy grinned and plopped himself on the chair that Stilton had just occupied. "I read the files you asked me to. You know, being a former expert attorney for Nelson and Murdoch and all. You're not going to have an easy win."

Emily nodded. She was grateful for Foggy's perspective on this case. She'd asked Foggy once why Nelson and Murdoch hadn't worked out. She'd assumed it had been a monetary issue. Most small businesses fail in the first year, after all, but it had been clear it was more than that, and Foggy refused to talk about it.

Foggy steepled his hands behind his head and grinned. "For the record, if I weren't already neck-deep in my own criminal cases, I'd love to take this one off your hands."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Nah, not really. The defendant shot his best friend in the back!"

"All I have to go on is his claim of the victim having super powers. Which I can't prove."

"And which, also, has saved the asses of many people on this planet thanks to the Avengers…"

"God, this sucks." Emily closed her eyes and tried to rub the day's stress from her temples. "Any more advice, Mr. Expert Attorney?"

Foggy grew contemplative. "Can you force someone who knew about Derrick's powers to testify as a hostile witness?"

"I've thought about it. I even went to his high school a few weeks ago, hoping someone would talk to me, but apparently Derrick was a popular guy. If he had powers that scared the hell out of people, no one seemed bothered. And the principal was no help at all, insinuating that Stilton had made the whole thing up. I can only imagine how Derrick's family would treat me if I showed up on their doorstep…"

Emily trailed off. The two junior associates sat in the quiet of Emily's office, each nursing their thoughts, as Chao and Benowitz buzzed with activity just outside the door.

"You know," Foggy said quietly, "if you are able to get a win on this case, you could be in the running for senior partner. I mean, if you're looking for a motivational speech here."

A sharp laugh escaped Emily's throat. "At this point, I'll just be happy to be done with this case.  _Everything_  comes down to whether or not the jury believes that super-powered humans are a threat. And after all the good superheroes have done for New York, how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I may be able to help." Foggy dug a business card from his breast pocket and passed it to her. "It's actually one of the reasons why I stopped by. There's a P.I. I met through a friend of mine. Her name is Jessica Jones, and she can do the investigative legwork for you while you're here prepping for court."

Emily studied the card.  _Alias Investigations. Jessica Jones. 485 West 46_ _th_ _Street._ "And you think she'd be sympathetic to my case?"

"Actually, I'd imagine it's the exact opposite."

Emily locked gazes with her colleague.

"Jessica Jones is a super human herself."

Emily swallowed hard. "I see."

"But she's also a professional private investigator who needs to pay her rent. And she would know what evidence to look for, which gives you an advantage in court, especially since she has powers." Foggy stood, smoothing out his tie as he headed to her office door. "It's a start, at least. The worst that could happen is she says no, but I'm sure she could recommend another P.I. for you."

"Thanks Foggy. You're the best."

He feigned tipping an invisible hat in a show of chivalry as he showed himself out.

Emily sighed as she turned the business card over in her hands. God knew she needed more evidence. She should've thought about hiring a P.I. weeks ago, but kept putting it off in the blurry-eyed haze of her ninety-hour work weeks.

And now she was running out of time.

She had to link Derrick to super human attacks, to anything that would work to gain the jury's attention and trust. And if she wanted to stay employed, she  _needed_  to win.


	2. Chapter 2

Alias Investigations on 485 West turned out to be a dilapidated building in the heart of Hell's Kitchen, with perpetual construction projects splattered along both sides of 46th street. The area reminded Emily of an apartment she'd rented in her undergraduate years at Columbia. Her days had been spent busting her hump to keep her GPA high enough to retain her scholarship while nights were consumed by part-time jobs.

They weren't happy memories.

It took Emily about five minutes examining mailbox labels to even figure out what floor Alias Investigations was on.

An email from Linda came in at about the same time Emily found the elevator.  _Where are you on the Lawrence case? Brian called me. Let's meet tomorrow morning. 10AM. I hope you have something to show me._

Emily deleted the email, squared her shoulders, and entered the elevator. The ride up to the fourth floor didn't help relax her nerves. The enclosed space reeked with the odor of dried beer and slate sweat that somehow wafted in through the ventilation system. Emily held her breath until the elevator jerked to a stop.

When the doors crept open, a dark hallway with dingy floors greeted Emily. As she made her way down the hall, she wondered if this Jessica Jones was having a good joke at her expense. She certainly didn't seem like she cared about getting business.

At the end of the hallway, Emily finally saw the sign stenciled on frosted glass.  _Alias Investigations._

This was it.

Emily raised her fist to knock, but instead the door flew open.

In front of Emily stood a woman even younger than herself, with pitch-black hair and pale skin. The woman shrugged herself into a black leather jacket. Her ripped jeans and outerwear were a strange juxtaposition considering the suffocating humidity outside. Then again, Emily had seen far weirder attire in July. This was New York, after all.

The woman flipped her hair out from underneath her jacket collar. "Who the hell are you?"

Not to be deterred, Emily held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Emily Graham. Are you Jessica Jones?"

The woman rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh before turning to walk back inside the office, as if having a paying customer appear had resigned her to some terrible twist of fate.

Emily waited.

From deep inside the office, she heard the woman's scratchy voice. "Well? Are you going to come in?"

Emily pursed her lips and came inside, closing the door behind her.

Once inside Alias Investigations, Emily could hardly describe the space as an office. A disused fireplace sandwiched between bookshelves stocked with liquor instead of books and lumpy couches were the highlights. It looked like Alias Investigations also doubled as a home. And judging by the lack of amenities, maybe Jessica Jones could use the payday. Emily hoped so.

The woman stood waiting behind an empty oak desk and placed her palms flat on the top. "I'm Jessica. In case that wasn't clear."

"Nice to meet you, Jessica. I'm Emily Graham."

"So you said. And I'm late for an appointment."

Emily wasn't about to ask what kind of appointment Jessica was late for. "Well, then. I won't waste any more of your time than I have to. I'm hoping to find a P.I. for a case I have coming up later next month."

Emily handed Jessica a folder. Inside lay the short dossier Emily had managed to wrangle together just before coming. Jessica thumbed through the initial pages, then stopped to study Emily.

"You're a defense attorney?" Jessica asked.

"Yes."

"For Chao and Benowitz?"

"That's right."

Jessica snorted. "Seems like there's scumbag lawyers everywhere in this town."

Emily was too stunned to summon a reply. Instead, she observed Jessica as the P.I. studied the notes written inside the case file. Jessica read the dossier carefully. She even appeared intrigued.

At first.

Then, the P.I.'s expression changed. The more Jessica's eyes scanned through the pages, the tighter her grip on the folder became until she flipped it shut and slammed it down on her desk.

"Is this a joke?" Jessica asked.

Emily's heart pounded. "I'm sorry?"

"You're an attorney, right?"

"That's right."

"And you're defending some shithead who killed a defenseless kid?"

Emily could feel the self-righteous indignation rising up inside her. "No. I'm defending someone who acted in self-defense…"

Another snort from Jessica. She slid the folder away from her, as if it were a slimy piece of offal she couldn't wait to be rid of. "You can lie to yourself if you want to, lady. But I make a rule of not getting involved with people who do bad shit. And you choosing to defending this kid is some bad shit."

"You think I have a choice?"

"Everybody has a choice."

Emily scooped up her dossier. "Are you upset because I tried to hire you at, what is apparently, a bad time? Or because you're super-powered yourself?"

The air went as still as death.

Emily stepped away from the desk as Jessica's face went rigid with anger. Fear rose up like bile in Emily's throat. What if Jessica became violent? If she acted out her rage, Emily had no idea what the P.I. was capable of. Foggy had never mentioned what Jessica's powers were. What if Jessica could bend her thoughts, the way Stilton claimed Derrick had bent his? It took all of her self-will not to panic.

But Jessica didn't use any telepathy. And she didn't smash through a wall like the Hulk, or create any number of other terrifying scenarios that Emily had envisioned. Jessica didn't even ball her hands into fists. Instead, the P.I. just grunted and shook her head. "You've got a lot of nerve, lady."

"It's Emily. And Foggy Nelson recommended you."

Jessica's eyes snapped to Emily. "Matt Murdoch's friend?"

Something clicked inside Emily's brain: Nelson & Murdoch. So Foggy had been partners with his friend. And it hadn't worked out. Best to keep her answer simple then. "Yes," Emily said.

Jessica leaned forward. "Listen  _Emily_. The last thing enhanced individuals like me need is someone like you digging up information about us and putting it on trial."

"Is that what you call yourselves? Enhanced?"

Jessica stood to her full height. "Get out."

Emily hugged her dossier folder to her chest and left. She barely got five feet from the door when she heard it open again and slam shut behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jessica locking up.

Jessica zipped past her. "Get the hell out of my way."

Emily was happy to oblige. She watched as Jessica got into the elevator and punched a button. The last thing Emily saw was Jessica's judgmental expression as the doors cranked shut.

Emily slowly let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Well, that went well." She sighed and opened her folder to reorganize her notes, wondering what she should do next.

A few feet away, a door opened. A young man poked his head out.

"You piss off Jessica?" he asked.

Emily nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"I used to work for her." The man opened his door a bit wider. "She's got some anger management issues."

"That's one way to put." Emily gazed back at the door to  _Alias Investigations._  "It's too bad. I could still use a private investigator."

A smile lit up his face. He held out his hand. "I'm Malcolm Ducasse. And I work at Cheng Consulting Management now."

Emily returned the handshake. "Wow, how many P.I.s live on this floor anyway?"

Malcolm laughed. "Just the two of us."

"Well, I'm Emily Graham, a defense attorney for Chao and Benowitz."

"I hope you didn't mention that to Jessica."

"She saw the header at the top of my pages. Why?"

"Bad blood." The grin never left Malcolm's face as he pointed to Emily's folder. "Is that the file?"

"It is." Emily handed it over. "It's mostly notes. And it's a jumbled mess, I know. I just put it together this afternoon."

"Looks good to me." Malcolm leaned against his doorframe and began to read. Unlike Jessica, his expression never changed, never wavered. Emily took that as a good sign. At least he appeared more professional than his ex-colleague. And he was thorough. Emily must have stood there for a good ten minutes before he closed the folder.

"I think I can help," he said. "But I have to be honest, I've got a lot on my plate right now. Three cases, to be exact, though one will be wrapped up soon." He tapped the edge of the folder against the door, deep in thought. "You know, there's some legwork you can do yourself. If you want to."

"I've already gone to Derrick's school and spoken with teachers, even the principal. The kids won't talk to me."

"What about Derrick's family?"

Emily shook her head. "That's why I was hoping for a P.I. If the lawyer for the boy who killed their son showed up at their home…"

"Ah. Gotcha."

"And I don't want to get personally involved with Derrick's family unless there's no choice, powers or not."

Malcolm nodded. "If Derrick has super powers, then yeah, I wouldn't want to be the lawyer going around trying to play detective with his family either. But I'll go talk to them sometime next week. I'll also go talk to the kids at Derrick's school. Are there any official records that show Derrick had any special abilities?"

"Not that I've found. His academic records had nothing. I even checked police reports."

"Well, it couldn't hurt for me to look again. Maybe I'll find something you didn't."

"Thank you Malcolm. I really appreciate it."

Malcolm grinned again. "You can thank me after you get my bill. I assume I send it to Chao and Benowitz?"

"Please. I could never pay for someone out of pocket, especially a P.I. from Cheng Consulting."

"Understood." Malcolm leaned forward. "You know, there's one place I'll bet you haven't looked yet. I mean, if you're building your case around super-powered humans and all..."

Emily perked up. "Oh?"

"Not many people know about this, but there's a house where super-powered people go hang out. And I'm not talking about Avengers HQ either. I'm talking about a house where  _lots_  of people go who need help with their powers, all kinds of supernatural stuff. Even kids. If Derrick had those kinds of abilities, maybe his parents took him there."

Emily felt the familiar excitement of a possible lead for her client pump through her veins. "Where is the house?"

"It's on Bleecker Street, in Greenwich."

"Have you ever been there?"

"Me? Nah. But Jessica has been there a couple of times. Cheng told me."

Emily took out her phone and went into google maps. "Bleecker Street, you said?"

Malcolm nodded. "But I don't know the address off the top of my head. It's in the 100s, but that's all I remember. Sorry."

"That's okay. It's on my way home, so I can check it out tonight. If super-powered people are coming in and out of a house in the Village, it should be pretty obvious, right? I don't want to start knocking on doors, and then get arrested for solicitation or something."

"Yeah, that could be awkward." He held up the dossier. "Mind if I hang onto this?"

"Of course. My cell and email are on the first page."

They said their goodbyes, and Emily left Hell's Kitchen with a much better feeling than she'd had walking into it.

Emily followed her phone's directions for getting to Bleecker Street. It required a detour on the subway, but at least the Village was on her way home. At the corner of 43rd, Emily saw a Starbucks and went in for a cold drink. While she waited for her order, she googled the term Jessica had used:  _enhanced individuals_. She'd been researching super-powers and superheroes for weeks now, but she'd only come up with the usual news articles. Emily didn't expect to find much of anything.

She was wrong.

The first five links had articles about super-powered, no,  _enhanced_  beings.

Enhanced people were made, not born, as she had thought. Many had been either coerced or forced into various experiments that had given them their powers. And some were even experimented on as children. Most of the articles paralleled the experiments to the kinds of human torture done during World War II. Emily's stomach soured even as her order was called. She picked up her macchiato, saw the milk curling inside the plastic, and promptly threw it in the recycling bin.

But she didn't turn away from the links on her phone. The next few articles mentioned another term Emily had never heard before:  _mutants_. Apparently, it described a special class of individuals who were simply born with their powers because of some kind of genetic mutation. Mutants were normal kids until sometime during puberty when their powers manifested.

But which one was Derrick?

Emily copied and pasted all of the links into an email, and then sent it off to her business address. She'd have a ton of reading to do tomorrow, but maybe she'd find something to show Linda. She closed her gmail and popped up google maps. She wished she could work a normal ten-hour day, but it looked like that wouldn't happen for a while. Time was running out. As she followed the blue arrows toward the subway, Emily could only hope that Bleecker Street had some answers.


	3. Chapter 3

Stephen Strange sat meditating, eyes closed, as he absorbed the late afternoon light filtering down through the Eye of Vishanti seal. His mind stretched to cover Manhattan, checking for any inter-dimensional threats. He found only the usual chaos and stress that accompanied daily life in New York. Good. In an hour the members of the Illuminati would arrive for their monthly meeting.

_CRASH._

"Oops." A low-pitched timbre echoed through the Sanctum. "Sorry."

Stephen stifled a sigh of resignation. Ever since Wong had hired contractors to fix the Sanctum from an infestation of Undying Ones, he'd had to fight against the impulse to banish all of the workers into another dimension. The constant barrage from the hammering made it almost impossible to open his third eye. At least none of them had managed to get their souls devoured by The Thing in the Cellar. Stephen considered that an achievement in and of itself.

Someone came up the stairs, but Stephen didn't need the use of his third eye to know exactly who it was. "Hello Wong. What did the Neanderthals break this time?"

"I think it was the wind rose of Marco Polo."

"Fantastic. By the time they're finished remodeling, they'll owe  _us_  money. How much would you say the wind rose was worth? Eight million? Nine?"

Wong stayed silent.

"No pithy retort? I'm not going to actually charge them, you know."

More silence.

Stephen opened his eyes. "What's on your mind?"

"I think there's someone who needs our help outside."

"Well, show them in then. I could use the distraction."

"I'm not sure she  _wants_  to come in,"

Stephen arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She's just walking up and down the sidewalk, back and forth, like she's looking for something."

"There's a person wandering around New York looking for something?" Stephen couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I've never seen anything that before. Incredible."

"You're hilarious," Wong deadpanned. "She's been pacing in front of the Sanctum for a good ten minutes now."

"Maybe she's just lost."

"No, I don't think so."

"Perhaps she's waiting for a friend?"

"She's been staring at house numbers. When she got to our plaque, she stopped. I opened the door to ask if she was looking for the Sanctum, but she took one look at me and ran away."

"Might say more about your lack of hygiene than her intentions." Stephen chuckled and waited for Wong to crack a smile, but his old friend simply glowered.

Stephen sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll have a look." He shut his eyes again to open his mind's eye. One look at her aura would tell him so much…

Unfortunately, some imbecile decided to start drilling on the first floor.

"You know," Stephen said, "all I'd have to do is open the door to the cellar." He smirked. "All my troubles would be gone."

"Not funny."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't detect anything malicious or supernatural near the Sanctum, but it's hard to tell with this infernal racket."

"Remember the tarantula demon attached to that girl from Queens? It managed to stay invisible, even from you, until you made it angry."

"Well, I wasn't about to  _leave_  it her…"

"And we've had people come here before who needed protection, even if it wasn't from anything supernatural."

This was true. The Sanctum was starting to resemble a halfway house. Even heroes like Spiderman and the Defenders would stay from time to time for protection. Two years ago, he'd decided to morph the Sanctum into the illusion of a Starbucks so that the weary superheroes living inside could stay safe from prying eyes. Unfortunately, he'd underestimated the popularity of the coffee chain. He then changed the facade into an Applebee's, and no one had bothered testing his illusion since.

That had been about a year ago. When the heroes had moved on, Stephen reverted the Sanctum back into its true form, but it seemed word had gotten around: something was unsettling about Bleecker Street. Now instead of thriving businesses, shuttered windows and empty storefronts lined the once iconic street.

"She's pretty, you know," Wong continued. "The woman outside."

Stephen's eyes snapped open again.

"I'm just saying… when was the last time you didn't want to introduce yourself to a beautiful woman?" Now it was Wong's turn to smirk.

He shot his friend an annoyed look. "Fine. I'll go. Is she still on Bleecker Street?"

"Hold on." Wong left, and the air of concern and frustration hovering over the room left with him.

It was just as well.

Stephen closed his eyes again. The drilling downstairs had finally taken a hiatus. He was just about to scan Greenwich for any darkened auras from mental attacks when Wong's voice rang up the steps.

"She's still here! But she's on the other side of the street now."

Stephen sighed. Maybe some things were best done the old-fashioned way. He uncrossed his legs and stood, morphing from his Sorcerer Supreme attire into slacks and a lightweight shirt. He'd learned from years of experience when dealing with strangers that it was best to appear as normal as possible. Most people were already filled with enough trepidation about the idea of meeting a sorcerer. When he actually had the audacity to look the part, they typically panicked.

Stephen joined Wong at the window. The after-work crowd was beginning to make an appearance, causing the normally empty sidewalks to become more congested than usual. All of the pedestrians strolled casually to their destination without so much as a glance at the Sanctum.

"Are you sure you didn't just imagine her?" Stephen grinned. "Maybe you need to get out more."

"Very funny. Just watch."

Stephen grew quiet and observed the streets, the sidewalks, the archways of buildings across from the Sanctum…

There.

A woman had stopped and was now poised next to the brick building across the street. She blended in with the crowd flowing around her, dressed in a neat blouse and lightweight skirt. A stylish handbag hung from a shoulder, and every so often she would reposition the straps so her long hair would be free of the entanglement. But Wong was correct. She didn't appear to be scanning for a familiar face or for a local bar to grab a drink. All she focused on was the Sanctum. Still, Stephen waited. And watched.

"I feel like some sort of underachieving voyeur," Stephen said.

"Are you going to go talk to her?" Wong asked. "She didn't seem to want to talk to me."

The drilling started up again. If that wasn't reason to get out of the house, Stephen didn't know what was. He vanished from the Sanctum…

… And reappeared several feet behind and to the right of the woman so she wouldn't catch him in her peripheral and react in alarm. He didn't need that sort of attention.

But the woman didn't notice him.

This close to her, Stephen tuned in to the reverberation echoing through her mind. It recited the same phrase over and over again.  _177A Bleecker Street, 177A Bleecker Street…_ The desire to find the Sanctum repeated itself in an exhausting refrain.

It was possible this woman was a natural transmitter. He'd met people like her in the past. Anything they became obsessed over projected from their minds and straight into the closest receptor who was listening. In this case, that receptor happened to be him.

Finally, the woman ended her internal mantra on his address. She mumbled to herself and began to dig around inside her purse. She pulled out a cell phone, swiped left, and aimed her camera right at the Sanctum.

Stephen cleared his throat. "Please. No pictures."

"Oh my God!" The woman jumped back in shock. Her cell phone dropped onto the concrete sidewalk. She scooped it up with shaking hands. Small webs of cracks lined the glass screen. "Shit. How could I have been so stupid?"

She glanced up at him with a mix of frustration and trepidation on her face.

And Wong had been correct. It was a beautiful face. It was also a face he had seen before.

"You scared the hell out of me!"

"My apologies, Emily." Stephen smiled. "Nice to finally meet you in person."

He could tell by her expression that she didn't remember him. And why would she? It had been over a year ago, and one picture on a dating app in the digital age didn't exactly warrant memorization. If it weren't for his photographic memory, he would have forgotten her as well.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Do I know you?"

"We've never met. Not officially." He gestured to the Sanctum. "Why are you looking for my home?"

"Your… home?"

"177A Bleecker Street. That's the address you're looking for, isn't it?"

The color drained from her face. "I…"

"If you could meditate on something  _other_  than my address, that would be great. Hearing your thoughts is like having a Rick Springfield song stuck in my head on repeat."

Emily went completely still. "Are you…  _reading_  my mind?"

"I'm not a telepath, but your intentions are being broadcast so loudly that anyone with an ounce of cognitive reception could read you like a book."

Now was the time to introduce himself, to explain who he was and how he knew her. But the thought of admitting he could remember her face from Tinder (Tinder, for God's sake) after all this time was an embarrassment at best, and might come across as stalkerish at worst. Still, at this point, there was no other option. If she needed his help, he would give it.

But before he could open his mouth, Emily sprinted away.

"Taxi!" Emily practically dove into the street, arms waving at the empty cab coming down Bleecker. Not once did she glance behind her as she jumped in the backseat. As the taxi sailed past him, Stephen saw her slump in relief against the window.

He cursed under his breath. Maybe if he'd started with a proper introduction she wouldn't have been so startled. Then again, that kind of introduction might have frightened her even more.

Wong was waiting right inside the door. "Smooth moves, Sorcerer Supreme."

Stephen soured. "I knew that woman, Wong."

Wong glanced out of the window at where the cab had swung onto 6th Avenue before turning to Stephen. "I don't remember her as one of your usual one-night stands."

"She's not."

"Then who is she?"

Stephen wasn't about to admit he'd met the woman in a moment of emotional weakness on a dating app. "Let's just say she and I had a misunderstanding online."

"Did you get into a fight on Twitter?"

"No."

"Tumblr?"

Stephen frowned. "What is a Tumbler?"

"Better you don't know."

Stephen shook his head in exasperation. "It doesn't matter where I know her from. The point is that this is one misunderstanding I need to correct. Especially if she came here for help."

"You want to know what I think? Watching the way she reacted to you?"

Stephen was afraid to ask. "What?"

"I think she was spying on you. Or the Sanctum."

Stephen chewed on that. It would explain her suddenness to rush off without explaining why she was there, and why she wanted to take pictures of the building. Then again, she could just be an ambitious real estate agent scoping out the property values. Or one of the many magic worshippers who flocked around Bleecker Street every so often.

"Maybe she knows about the Illuminati meeting," Wong added.

Now  _that_  was a disturbing thought. Far more disturbing than the idea of her spying on him or recording the strange goings-on around the Sanctum. Illuminati meetings were secret, as was its membership.

"I need to find her again" Stephen said, "Figure out what's going on. Now that I've been close enough to feel her aura, I know I can pinpoint it again."

"Before or after the Illuminati meeting?"

From the floors above, Stephen heard the workmen gathering up their belongings to go home, ready to begin fresh round of auditory torture first thing tomorrow. Once they left, Wong would make himself scarce as the members of the Illuminati arrived, starting with the quiet authority of Professor Charles Xavier and ending with the nauseating flourish of Tony Stark.

With the introduction in Congress of HR 8275 on registering mutants and enhanced humans, it was going to be a tense night of debate. Tony Stark had already made his opinion on the benefits of registration known, even after Jessica Jones had dropped off evidence months ago about a teenage boy named Derrick Johnson who had been killed in what Charles Xavier had called a blatant attack on mutants. If nothing else, Stephen wanted to make sure he was front and center, not only to support Charles but to counter Stark's asinine arguments.

"After." Stephen sighed. "I'll find her after."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe... it's about time these two finally met. But will she figure out this is the same guy from Tinder who claimed to be a wizard? Stay tuned... ;)


	4. Chapter 4

There were rules Emily had learned to live by if she wanted to live in New York and stay sane. The first rule was to stay the hell away from any place or person who was capable of doing her harm, especially in a place like Manhattan where weirdness seemed to breed unchecked, like excited rabbits in the wild.

Then there was her second rule, which was to never back down, to never let anyone in this town get the best of her. And that man on Bleecker Street, whoever he was, had gotten the best of her. It ate away at her mind as her cab sliced through Greenwich on its way to her studio apartment in the East Village.

Emily gazed down at her phone. The screen was a mess of broken glass. And the longer she looked at it, the angrier she became.

"Turn the cab around," Emily said.

From his rearview mirror, the cab driver glanced at her in astonishment. "Say what?"

"I'm going back to Bleecker Street."

"Jesus, are you serious?"

"I've got a twenty dollar tip in it for you, plus your fare. Turn the cab around."

He shrugged and maneuvered through traffic to double back.

Emily checked her phone's charge. Forty percent. It would be enough. She was going to get those pictures. She just had to be cautious. The man who had appeared out of nowhere obviously had some sort of enhanced abilities. And she was going to find out exactly what those abilities were.

When they arrived back on Bleecker Street, Emily asked the driver to drop her off at the end of the block, well out of sight of 177A. She took her time, trudging down the sidewalk as if going to a funeral. She wanted to take photos of everything, just in case there was something important to glean from them later. It still amazed her to see so many "For Lease" signs on storefronts all along this street. Especially when there was a good amount of foot traffic.

When she got to the middle of Bleecker, she stopped cold. She couldn't believe her eyes. Dozens of people loitered across from 177A. Some of them were praying with Buddhist beads. Some were holding up signs begging for healing, for peace. Many were chanting, their eyes fixed on the upstairs window with a strange symbol that glowed warmly from lights deep within the house.

Emily shook her head. It looked like she was going to have to ignore Rule 1 in order to implement Rule 2. Then again, crazy people can provide a great distraction. She took more pictures, first of the house, then of the religious zealots near her. If people began worshipping enhanced individuals, who knew what the implications would be? Whatever they were, it could apply to her case and was something solid she could give to the jury.

She stood there until twilight, milling around with the others, asking questions. One woman from Queens claimed her daughter had been possessed by a spider demon, and she came every night during the new moon to offer prayers of thanksgiving to Krishna. A middle-aged hipster with a long white beard told her that the "sorcerer supreme" living here had pulled his deli out from another dimension. He spent at least thirty minutes telling Emily how his kosher bologna had been eaten by a giant spaghetti monster right before he and his deli were magically rescued. Emily plastered a smile on her face as he recited his monologue of crazy, praying to any god that would listen for him to go away.

A limo pulled up next to 177A Bleecker Street. As soon as it stopped, the worshippers grew silent, even Emily. She couldn't speak if she tried. Emily felt a  _pull_  inside her mind. There was no other word to describe it.

One by one, all of them began to walk away. Emily felt every muscle longing to leave with the throng, to go back home. Peace settled over her, a sense of joy. Why had she come here? She couldn't remember. She didn't want to remember. All she wanted was to  _go back home_  and  _rest_.

She moved with the crowd, away from Bleecker Street. The limo driver, a man wearing deep red sunglasses, exited the car. Why was the man wearing red sunglasses? It didn't matter.  _It was fine_. Everything was  _just fine_. Emily opened her purse to put her phone away. She couldn't even remember why she'd had her phone out to begin with.

Her jagged screen caught on the fabric inside her purse. Her thumb slipped across the glass. The sharp edge sliced through her skin.

Pain gripped her mind, stronger than the pull to go home. It snapped Emily out of her mental oasis. The urge to leave still lingered, but it was muted. Like pillows piled high against a speaker, muffling the sound until she could no longer recognize the tune. Instead of wanting to go, she remembered why she was here, what she needed to do. Her stubbornness snapped the last threads of the desire to leave, and her mind was set free.

She shook her head as if to clear it. What the hell had just happened?

Sucking the trickle of blood from her thumb, she raised her phone to snap a quick photo of the limo driver. There was just enough light to see his face. He appeared to be close to her age, maybe a few years younger, and athletic. His psyche combined with those sunglasses made her doubt he drove limousines full time. He walked inside the house, and came out again a few minutes later carrying an older man who was bald and wearing a nice suit. The driver placed him in the back of the limo, while the Asian man Emily had met at the door of 177A earlier brought down the most unique wheelchair Emily had ever seen. She took pictures of it all.

One by one, a variety of cars arrived at the front of 177A to collect their occupants, and one by one an intriguing variety of men exited the house to leave. One of the men was Tony Stark. Her heart pounded as each man received plenty of snapshots from her phone. When the line of cars began to ease, Emily checked her cache of photos. She could make out every last detail of the men and building she'd captured.

Perfect.

Inside 177A, lights began to go out. Emily darted away. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation with the man she'd met earlier. If he was a sorcerer, and after speaking to so many people tonight she believed he definitely had some kind of extraordinary powers, she didn't want to stick around now that his party was over.

She stayed on the sidewalks, blending in with the crowds. The thought of taking a cab crossed her mind, but the memory of having her desires manipulated caused her to choose the subway. There was safety in numbers and in staying in public areas, after all. It took a lot longer to get to the East Village this way, but she didn't care.

She didn't feel safe until she walked past her doorman. And she didn't breathe a sigh of relief until she was back inside her apartment.

She locked the door behind her and fell against it in a rush of satisfaction. She'd done it. She'd gotten the pictures. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and a wide grin spread across her face. Maybe she could look into becoming a private investigator if she somehow lost this case.

"Hello Emily."

She screamed, her hand slamming against her mouth in alarm. The man from Bleecker Street suddenly stood five feet in front of her.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier." He held out his hand. "Doctor Stephen Strange. Sorcerer Supreme."

Equal parts fear and rage flooded through her body. "How the hell did you get in here…?"

"Sorcerer." He smiled.

She felt her anger dominate, overriding her fear. He looked the same as he had earlier, in casual pants and a shirt, nothing like the sorcerer he and all those worshippers claimed him to be.

"You seem to enjoy hanging around Bleecker Street," he said. "Was there something I could do for you?"

"You forced everyone to leave Bleecker Street," she accused. "You tried to force  _me_  to leave."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh really?" Sarcasm leapt from her throat. " _Sorcerers_  can't bend people to do their will?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have that level of telepathic ability."

" _Someone_  inside that party did. And they almost forced me to do God knows what."

"They nudged you to go safely home, Emily. And if you hadn't broken the link, you would've been a lot happier than you are now." Stephen tilted his head to the side. "How  _did_  you break the link?"

Emily held up her thumb. "Cut myself."

"Pain can only do so much. You must have a very strong will."

"You bet your ass I do." Emily yanked her phone from her purse. "And I'm using it to call the police."

Her phone transformed into an emerald hummingbird in her hand.

Emily gasped and let it go. Her purse fell to the floor, but the hummingbird fluttered in front of her. It hovered in mid-air, its wings fluttering, before shifting and morphing before her eyes into a cell phone once again. It crashed onto the hardwood floor.

"Transmutation." Stephen gazed down at her crippled phone and shook his head. "You really should invest in a Lifeproof screen. It's invaluable, especially when battling the Skrull. Would you like to see mine?" Stephen pulled a cell phone seemingly out of thin air.

Emily didn't know whether he was trying to be funny, or if he was just making fun of her. She only knew her screen would be far worse now, and all of her hard work rested on her being able to open those photos. She felt tears fill her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of him. Instead she concentrated on bending down slowly to pick up her phone.

"Emily, wait."

She crouched down on the floor, her hand frozen just above her phone. Teardrops loomed at the edge of her eyes. If she blinked, they would fall.

She heard Stephen kneel down next to her. He placed his hand gently on hers.

Her tears fell then.

"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered. "I didn't come here to hurt you."

"What  _did_  you come here for?"

He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed gently. Angry red scars lined his fingers. "To talk to you." With his free hand, he scoped up her phone.

She didn't trust herself to look at his face. She was afraid any tender expression she saw there would make her burst into sobs. Instead she waited, staring at the floor. As he stayed there beside her, continuing to hold her hand, she realized with embarrassment that he understood she was close to breaking down and was giving her time to collect herself.

Finally, she nodded. "I'm okay."

He handed her phone back to her. "Here you go."

Emily brushed away another rebel tear that had managed to escape. "Thank you." She turned the phone over and gasped. Her screen was fixed, not a single crack in sight. It was perfectly smooth.

She gazed up at Stephen in amazement. "How…? Oh, right. Sorcerer." She laughed, and more tears fell. She wiped them away as she checked her screen. Her phone was powered off. She pressed the button to turn it on again, but nothing happened. The screen stayed black.

"It won't turn on again until I leave," Stephen said. "Which I don't plan on doing until I find out why you want to take photos of everything going on around the Sanctum."

"The Sanctum? Is  _that_  what you call your house?"

"It's many things to many people, but that's its official title. It's a sanctuary for anyone who needs it."

Emily rubbed her eyes and walked to her couch. With a sigh of defeat, she collapsed on a soft cushion. "Okay, we can talk. But if we do, and you don't like what I say, promise me that you won't throw me into another dimension and sacrifice me to the bologna-eating spaghetti monster or something."

Stephen chuckled. It brightened his face, changing his entire demeanor. "You must have met Jerry. I'd forgotten he comes around with that throng outside."

"He talked my ear off for a good thirty minutes."

Stephen eased his way over to her couch and gestured, as if asking her permission to sit. She nodded. He made himself comfortable on the opposite end. "No matter what you tell me, I won't throw you into another dimension."

"Promise?"

He nodded.

"Even if what I say is a complete waste of your time?"

"Even then." His face became solemn. "And before I forget, I want to take this opportunity to thank you."

It took Emily a good three seconds to process the change in subject. "You want to  _thank_  me?" Emily couldn't remember the last time she'd been so caught off guard by someone. "For what?"

"For getting me to delete my Tinder account for starters. Complete waste of my time. Do you know how many psychotic people are on that app?"

"Oh my God!" She gasped. She tried not to laugh, but it bubbled out of her all the same. " _It's you!_  I remember you now. You were the guy who said he was a wizard…"

"Sorcerer."

"Holy shit, I thought you were crazy!"

"Not crazy. Just honest. And speaking of honesty, let's talk about what you saw tonight."

Emily sighed. She had no idea what his reaction to her motives might be, and she always made it a point to learn how someone would react before she confessed to anything. "I witnessed several people, all of them men, leaving your house. And all of them had special powers, or seem connected to someone who does."

"You're a lawyer, not a private detective. So what were you doing there?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You said you couldn't read minds, so how do you know I'm a lawyer?"

Stephen pointed to the Harvard Law diploma proudly framed on the opposite wall.

"Oh. Right."

Stephen steepled his hands across his chest and waited.

She gave up. She was far too exhausted to even think up a credible lie about taking pictures, let alone make it convincing. "I am trying to find evidence for my client."

Stephen sat up stiffly, no longer relaxed. "Evidence about what?"

His sudden interest made her nervous, but there was nothing she could do but press on. "About enhanced people. Or mutants. I'm not sure which, but my client killed one of you in self-defense, and I need to know why."

"I'm not enhanced, Emily."

"But… you're a sorcerer."

He laughed, and the sound filled her apartment, rich and untamed. "I  _learned_  to be a sorcerer. With time and practice, anyone could do what I do. Even you."

"I seriously doubt that."

Stephen grew quiet. He also looked more relaxed since Emily had mentioned her case, which meant he wasn't trying to disguise the fact that enhanced people used his home or came there for help. But he was hiding something. She was sure of it. And whatever it was had to do with her being at his home when those men were there. She made a mental note for later. Time to turn this conversation to her advantage.

"Can you tell me about enhanced people?" she said.

"I don't know much, since I'm not enhanced myself. You probably know more than I do if you're actively researching a case…"

"Could a teenager be enhanced? Experimented on?" Emily found it hard to get those last two words out, to imagine a kid being tortured. "Or is a teenager more likely to be a mutant?"

"More likely, he would be a mutant. I can refer you to a friend of mine named Charles Xavier. He runs a school for gifted children, a place of safety where mutants can learn to use their powers for the good of humanity."

"Xavier, you said?" Emily got up to grab a notebook. The note app on her phone was in a coma, thanks to the sorcerer sitting on her couch. She scribbled  _Charles Xavier._  And underneath that,  _Why so many men coming out of Bleecker Street? Secret meeting?_ Turning her mental note into a physical one.

Emily brought her note pad and pen back to the couch. As she swooped back down, Stephen sat up straighter. He never broke eye contact. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach and tried to concentrate on what she needed to ask him next, but instead it was him who spoke.

"Why are you a lawyer, Emily?"

This was  _not_  the direction she'd hoped their conversation would take. His question was kind, but it surprised her all the same. She hadn't been expecting him to venture beyond her activities on Bleecker Street. She deflected with humor, the way she always did when anyone got too personal. "Hey, I'm the one taking notes." A shaky smile formed on her lips. "Aren't I supposed to be asking the questions?"

Her nonchalance didn't work. He saw right through her and pressed on. "Because when you mentioned those experiments on people, you turned pale. It sickens you to think someone could be hurt in that way, especially a child."

She swallowed hard. The last thing she needed was him being able to read her face, even if he couldn't read her thoughts. "It does," she admitted.

"You know what I think?" He leaned forward. "I think you have doubts about your client."

Her throat went dry. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you've spent the better part of today searching for answers in a place that houses the very people you and your client are supposed to be afraid of."

Emily stared at him in stunned silence.

"It's amazing what you can hear with your eyes, isn't it?" he whispered.

She nodded. She had always prided herself on being able to read people, but Stephen must have taken a masters class. For one of the first times in her life, Emily couldn't find the right words to say. Seconds drew out, stretching the uncomfortable silence. When she finally spoke, she used the same reasoning she always did when people asked why she defended criminals. "It doesn't matter what I think. My client deserves a fair trial."

Stephen sighed. "Answers like that are why people don't like lawyers. Just so you know."

Emily glared back at him. "It's the truth."

"No. It's an excuse."

Her anger resurfaced, and with it came the strength she needed to fight. "I'm sorry my reasoning doesn't fit your moral standards."

"Actually, I have a feeling it doesn't fit  _yours_."

She lost control and stood to her feet, shaking with rage. "I love how people like you want to judge me without knowing all the facts. You see my diplomas and think I had it easy, like all those rich kids I sat next to in lectures. I  _barely_  got into Harvard Law. I almost didn't go, but I wasn't about to pass up that kind of opportunity even if all my student loans are now higher than my mortgage. And my feelings about my client don't make  _any_   _difference_. I still have to do my best for him. Oh, and fun fact: If I don't win this case, I'll be out of a job. Which means I'll be out on the streets because, unlike you, I can't just use magic to make money appear out of thin air."

He rose to stand next to her, close enough that she could see the comfort in his eyes. There was more inside those eyes, too: empathy, maybe. Or acceptance. Standing next to him made her feel so small and vulnerable. She hated that feeling as much as she longed for him to understand her.

When he spoke, his voice was as soft as his gaze. "Would losing your job be so bad?"

"Yes. It would be. It's all I've done for over a decade, so unless you want to wave your magic wand and make Derrick Johnson alive again, this discussion doesn't matter."

Stephen went still. "Did you say Derrick Johnson?"

All the kindness in his eyes vanished. Emily's stomach fell to the floor.

"Did you know Derrick?" she asked.

The room was thick with tension. She could've cut it with a knife. Her head pounded as she tried to think her way out of this. Was Stephen related to Derrick? And if so, what was the sorcerer capable of, knowing she was defending the killer who had murdered him?

"No, I didn't know him," Stephen finally said.

A little bit of her apprehension dissipated, but only a little. His eyes were still cold. Emily exhaled. "Do you know Derrick's family?"

"No."

"But you recognized his name?"

"Yes."

"So... then you have to know something, right?"

"Sorry."

Here was a man who had chosen all of his words so carefully up to this point, which meant he was choosing to be belligerent. Emily felt her irritation rise, but she pressed on. "What about those men at your house tonight? Did they know Derrick?"

"No."

His monosyllabic answers were exasperating. "Are you going to tell me  _why_  they were there?"

He grinned. "Nope."

Damn him and his secrets. Emily allowed her emotions to boil over. "Then this conversation you wanted to have with me is over. I hope you got what you came here for."

"Actually, I did." Stephen held out his hand to her in a formal goodbye. "It was nice talking with you, Emily. Thank you for your time."

Again, his actions surprised her. She didn't know what to say. She had expected him to begin another mind game, or at least a battle of wits trying to find answers. All the wrath she had stored up was sucked out of her, replaced by a sudden sense of disappointment. She had no idea why. Shouldn't she be grateful he was finally leaving?

Emily kept her face impassive as she reached out to shake his hand. His touch was electric. She wanted to keep her hand resting inside his, and longed to yank it away at the same time.

"Thank you for fixing my phone," she said lamely.

He smiled. "You're welcome."

Stephen let go of her hand. The air around him electrified and … twisted somehow. Like ripples on an invisible pond, flowing out from the sorcerer standing at its center. Then he was gone.

Emily blinked once, twice, and looked around her studio apartment. "Stephen?"

No one answered her.

Her phone blinked on.

Emily let out a laugh of optimistic relief. At least  _that_  part of her night hadn't been a waste of time. She typed in her passcode, and opened her photos to download them into an email for Linda. Her boss could peruse them before their meeting and maybe brainstorm a secondary defense strategy that Emily hadn't thought of before.

But when her photos came up on her phone, her elation vanished. There was nothing to send. Every single picture from Bleecker Street was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Stephen stumbled into the library annex that served as his private study on the second floor of the Sanctum, trying to ignore the throbbing inside his temples. He'd spent most of his time with Emily disguising his pain from her scrutinizing gaze. Now he allowed it to wash over him in waves.

Every time he used magic, there was a price. He'd learned that lesson early. As the years passed, casting spells got easier, but the toll on his mind and body remained the same. And when his spells bumped up against technology, the price was intense physical pain. But then again, it could be far worse.

He rubbed his forehead to help alleviate the hurt and trudged to his desk. Weaving the simple but effective incantation, he unlocked the top drawer. The files Jessica Jones had left here months ago, along with Charles Xavier's notes on mutants, were long gone. Charles had the only copies now. But their echo remained. Stephen took a deep breath to steady his headache, and released the eye of Agamotto from the dimensional gateway where he'd placed it for safekeeping. The Eye became visible around his neck, and with a complex spell, the folder holding all of the files was back in front of him. Stephen scoped it up and collapsed into the nearest chair.

Wong sauntered into the library with a nineteenth century textbook in his hand, whistling a pop song Stephen didn't recognize. When Wong spotted him, he stopped.

"You okay?" Wong asked.

"Headache. Painful, but I'd rather have a spell take a toll on my body, than eat away at my soul."

"The Thing in the Cellar doesn't need any more power, that's for sure. Besides, your body could use some improvement anyway." Wong chuckled as he replaced the nineteenth century book of spells before wandering over to the Egyptian section. He selected the Book of the Dead. "So, you just cast spells over the material plane tonight then?"

"I had to erase the saved contents inside a cell phone."

Wong thumbed through the book as he nodded in sympathy. "Technology spells are the worst."

Stephen opened Jessica's files, determined to concentrate through the pain. Derrick Johnson's family had hired her nine months prior, hoping to discover more information on the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters since Charles had extended the invitation for Derrick to join his school. Jessica had been in the middle of meeting with Charles and other teachers at the school when Derrick had been killed. Then her investigation had taken on a different tone entirely. Over the last few months, Charles had added to the folder as more information about mutants around New York had surfaced.

Stephen hadn't lied when he'd told Emily he had wanted to speak to her tonight, but his main purpose wasn't the simple chitchat that had ensued. At first, when Charles had told him someone outside had managed to break the chain of his telepathic suggestions and was taking photos of everyone leaving, Stephen had feared the worst. The last thing he needed was a journalist snooping around when fears about HR 8275 were already terse within the Illuminati. When he had opened his third eye and witnessed Emily taking snapshots like an overzealous tourist, he'd set his mind to seeking her out as soon as the men left so he could erase those photos from existence.

He'd hoped to appear to her in public yet again. He hadn't expected her to rush back inside her apartment. Stephen had debated with himself on whether to pop in on her unannounced, but he'd had no choice thanks to those pictures of the Illuminati. And as awkward as his being there had been, at least it had gotten him close enough to physically touch her cell phone. That had made the spell to delete the pictures far easier on his body.

But he also hadn't anticipated her tears. Her emotional heartache had gone well beyond simply needing a screen repair. It screamed through her tough exterior and penetrated him in a way that surprised him. She might not have needed supernatural aid, but she'd certainly needed to dispel the dark emotions about her work. He had to admit that being with her, talking with her, had been the highlight of his night. And as they'd spoken, he'd grown even more admirable of her tenacity. But why she persisted, especially when a part of her seemed sympathetic to Derrick, was something he'd only gotten partially answered.

Agony rippled across Stephen's forehead again. He closed Jessica's file and watched Wong browse the pages of the Book of the Dead instead of reading. Wong gingerly turned toward the end of the book, his forehead creased in concentration. When he found the spell he wanted, the librarian paused. He nodded to himself and slipped a scarp of his robe inside the page to bookmark it as he closed the text.

"Dog-earring it would be easier," Stephen said.

Wong scowled over at him. "I hate it when you do that. This book is older than western magic. It deserves some respect."

Stephen grinned but didn't have the energy to continue teasing. He closed his eyes to rest them, and in the quiet, the gentle hum of magic from the Sanctum continued its work to heal his headache.

"You want some Tylenol?" Wong asked.

He nodded.

Stephen heard Wong walk away. A few minutes later, Stephen reopened his eyes at the gentle shuffling of Wong coming back through the annex door. Wong held out the medicine in an open hand. The Book of the Dead nestled protectively under his arm. Stephen took the tablets gratefully. As he swallowed it dry, Wong shook his head.

"Do you want some tea before you choke?" Wong asked.

"If you're offering…"

Another head shake, and Wong gestured to the empty cups on the table. Within seconds, steam rose from the depth of the hot liquid inside. Wong picked one up and handed it to his friend.

Stephen sipped his tea as Wong scrutinized him the same way Emily had studied him earlier tonight.

"It's just a headache, Wong."

"Are Professor Xavier and the other Illuminati members upset?"

Stephen grunted. "Didn't you hear the shouting match tonight? I thought our little debate might actually tear down a wall, or at least break through that technical monstrosity Stark calls a heart. Thank goodness for the chanting outside…"

"About the photos, I mean."

Stephen shook his head. A low throb from behind his eyes answered the motion. "Only Charles knows about them and, thankfully, he has a more open-minded approach to the visibility of inhumans."

"Did you find out why the woman was taking pictures of everyone?" Wong asked. "She wasn't from that mega church on 23rd, was she? Those people are a pain in the ass."

Stephen laughed, and instantly regretted it. Pain throbbed inside his skull. He took another small sip of the tea. "No, but it turns out Emily is the defense attorney for the Derrick Johnson case. And she was looking for evidence on inhumans, both enhanced and mutants alike."

"Really?"

"Yep."

A smile slid across Wong's lips. "So, she  _was_  spying on us?"

"It appears so."

"I was right." Wong couldn't hide his glee.

Stephen nodded, conceding the point, and the library grew quiet yet again. He took another slow drink from the rim of his cup, and this time there was no pain when he drank.

"You know," Wong said, "you Illuminati guys really should consider meeting someplace more secretive."

"Don't remind me. I've asked King T'Callah about allowing us to come to Wakanda. It's away from prying eyes, and Richard Reed is dying to speak with his sister Shuri about a million possible scientific advancements. I was going to have Charles contact them to see if they'd be willing to find a private space where we can use a portal to enter and leave discreetly, but I don't want to encroach."

Stephen set down his cup and rubbed his temples, testing his head for signs of more throbbing. There were none. He opened the folder again.

Wong nodded to Stephen's late night reading. "I'll bet Emily would love to get her hands on that folder."

"I'm sure she would."

"Do you think she'll be back once she realizes those pictures are gone?"

"Someone that dedicated to finding answers?" Stephen smiled knowingly. "Oh, she will definitely be back."


	6. Chapter 6

Emily sat at her desk, trying to concentrate on the Lawrence case, but all she could think about was the sorcerer from Bleecker Street.

When Emily had come into work yesterday, she'd been emotionally detached from her case. Super-powered people, enhanced individuals, mutants… whatever they were called, they had been only a case study, something to learn about from a distance the way paleontologists examine dinosaur bones, trying to piece together fragments to decipher their lives and uncover the truth.

And now? Now she was living inside her case, having her mind manipulated, sorcerers appearing inside her home unannounced, and her cell phone hacked by magic.

She'd thought about marching into the nearest Apple Store this morning just to see the expression on the face of the pimpled millennial working the genius bar when she told him her phone's pictures had been erased by a magic spell. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have blinked. Maybe these kinds of things happened all the time in New York, just never to her.

She clicked on the first article she'd sent herself yesterday. Her eyes read the words on the page, but her thoughts were distracted. Until she saw the author was Professor Charles Xavier.

She sat up straighter. This was the man Stephen had mentioned last night.

She kept reading, this time fully engaged with the content. When she got to the paragraph that mentioned a bill coming before congress called HR 8275, she scribbled extra notes inside her file. She'd never heard of the bill. She dropped her pen and opened a new tab to research further.

The bill was being a sponsored by a congressman named Robert Kelly from Massachusetts, a man who was apparently running for senator once his term was up. The bill's goal was to register all enhanced individuals. And if this bill became law every inhuman, no matter what his or her age, would be forced to register their powers. That state and federal registry would then be available to the public. Emily sucked in a breath as she read on...

"Emily?"

Dazed, Emily looked up from her screen. Linda Chao stood at her office door.

"You're late."

Emily glanced at the time on her computer. 10:14AM. Shit.

"I'm so sorry Linda."

Her boss waited a beat before the insult came. "I hope you're more organized inside those case files then you are outside of them."

Linda left.

Emily cursed under her breath and scrambled to collect her files on the Stilton case. She rushed after Linda. Emily knew from experience that all meetings were done in Linda's office, where her boss had complete control over her environment, and therefore over the people who walked into it. Emily knocked on Linda's door not only as an act of courtesy but of necessity.

"Come in," Linda ordered.

Emily crossed the threshold and shut the door behind her.

Linda Chao stood behind her desk, arms crossed over her chest. "What have you found?" she asked.

So much for small talk. Emily took a deep breath. "I found out quite a lot about mutants and enhanced humans."

Linda frowned. "Those are new terms to me. What's the difference between the two?"

"Mutants are mostly kids whose powers manifest once they hit puberty. Enhanced people are… genetically altered, usually against their will."

"I see." Linda lowered herself into her executive chair and folded her hands in front of her. "This is fascinating. Go on."

Emily didn't know if she was being sarcastic. It was hard to tell with Linda. She kept going. "There's also a new bill being introduced in Congress, HR 8275, that would require both mutants and enhanced people to register their powers…"

Linda's gaze was unyielding. "Emily, please tell me you have more to report than what any intern could find through a fifteen minute google search."

Emily's hopes sank. "I hired a private investigator."

"That's good. But it's also something you should've done months ago. Anything else?"

"Last night I…" She stopped midsentence. Something felt wrong about telling Linda all of the details on Stephen.

Linda quirked an eyebrow. "Go on. What happened last night?"

Emily swallowed her hesitation. She was committed now. "I found a house where mutants and enhanced people stay. The investigator I hired from Cheng Consulting, Malcolm Ducasse, told me about it. I took pictures of the men coming out. One of them was Tony Stark."

"Stark?" Linda leaned back in her chair, looking pleased for the first time since Emily entered her office. "I'd love to see these pictures of yours."

"I wish you could, but a sorcerer erased them all."

"A sorcerer?"

From the skeptical tone in Linda's voice, Emily knew she'd blown her only chance to impress her boss. She took shaky breaths and waited for Linda's inevitable wrath.

She didn't have to wait long. Linda stared Emily down before swiveling her chair to gaze into the Manhattan skyline. "Emily, you weren't my first choice for this case. You weren't even my second…"

"I know…"

"I'm not finished. We've given you every confidence, allowed you extra interns for anything you might need…"

Emily could feel her annoyance rise at the injustice of that last statement. Those "interns" Linda spoke about had been ripped from her the moment Jeri left the firm.

Linda went on. "It sounds like a pathetic excuse to blame a sorcerer for magically erasing solid evidence, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes." Her answer was a whisper. "But I didn't make it up. He appeared inside my apartment and when he touched my phone, it fixed the cracks on the screen but also must have erased the photos I'd taken. I had no idea anyone could do that. How could I?"

It was a feeble defense. She knew she should argue her case better than this, especially to Linda, but all she could muster was the truth. She steered herself for Linda's mockery, or even the possibility of having her case given to another lawyer. Honestly, at this point Emily would have welcomed the demotion. But instead of jests, Linda jerked around to stare at Emily hungrily. Emily was so shocked by the sudden change in her boss that she took a step backward.

"Did this man really use some kind of super power to appear inside your apartment?"

"Yes." Emily wondered what Linda was getting at. "Though he said it was magic…"

"And when he got inside your apartment, unwanted, unannounced... I assume he was there without your consent?"

"I mean, I didn't invite him in…"

"Once he was inside, did he threaten you?"

Emily's stomach dropped. She had a bad feeling she knew where Linda was taking this conversation. "No. He didn't threaten me."

"Did you sleep together?"

"No!"

"You're wasting an opportunity here, you know." Linda's voice was almost tender. "You have this man with enhanced abilities who can use his powers to pop in and out of someone's private home. Inside a  _young, single woman's_  private home…"

Emily's heart sank as Linda smirked.

"And while you weren't assaulted," Linda continued, "you could have been…"

Emily held up her hands, her body shaking with anger. "Stop."

Linda stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"Look, Stephen was a nice guy. He didn't hurt me, and I'm not about to start a witch hunt or lie and say he did."

The two attorneys glared at one another. Linda scanned Emily, as if assessing her for weakness. But Emily didn't care. She answered Linda's hostility with her own silent rage. She would rip her boss apart before she'd ever lie about last night. Even if Stephen had taken away her hard work, he had still managed to treat her with kindness. It was something she had desperately needed.

Finally, Linda shrugged. "Have it your way. But if you want to win this case, you'll have show the jury exactly what these enhanced people can do."

"He wasn't enhanced. He was just a sorcerer." Her words sounded so ridiculous, even to her. And she'd been there, had seen what he could do.

" _Just_ a sorcerer? He trespassed inside your home, destroyed your private property." Linda's smile was paper-thin. "I will leave it to your discretion to decide exactly which super human abilities you put on trial. But in my opinion, this  _sorcerer_  has given you an opportunity. Don't waste it. If you don't use him, then a good pictures or video of an enhanced human attacking an innocent bystander would do your client a world of good."

Emily didn't respond.

"You can leave now."

Emily opened the door to let herself out and almost tripped. Brian Lawrence stood at the threshold to Linda's office, a knowing grin on his face. His eyes raked over Emily, a predatory gaze that reminded her of how Linda had scrutinized her just minutes before. It made Emily's skin crawl. She tried to move around him, but he refused to step aside. He motioned for her to go back inside Linda's office and waltzed in after her, closing the door behind him. She was trapped.

"Well, the gang's all here, I see." Brian laughed at his own joke. "Busy working on Stilton's case, Emily?"

Emily managed to plaster on a smile. "Yes, and I  _really_  should be getting back…"

Brian laid a heavy hand on Emily's shoulder, forcing her to stay. "Hold on a minute."

He held up two sealed, square envelopes in his hand and handed her one. In the center was Emily's name written in swirled, bold calligraphy.

"What's this?" Emily asked. "A wedding invitation?"

Brian's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "No. I'm having a party tonight for everyone who's supported Stilton, and I want both you and Linda to attend." He handed a second envelope to Linda, who accepted with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning.

Brian gripped Emily's shoulder. "I hope you can be there tonight, Emily. I have something special planned for my legal team."

Emily's throat went dry. "I appreciate the invitation, but it's pretty short notice…"

"Clear your schedule. One night off from this case won't hurt my son, will it?" Brian's smile turned feral as held her eyes. "I won't take 'no' for an answer."

Emily nodded weakly.

"Great. It's settled. And bring your boyfriend, if you have one." Brian laughed as he released Emily's shoulder, then turned to her boss. "Linda, do you have a minute?"

"Of course, Brian."

Emily couldn't get out fast enough. She darted back to her small office and locked the door behind her.

Once seated at her desk, she gulped to catch her breath. Her hand clinched around Brian's invitation, squeezing it until it was a wrinkled mess. The last thing she wanted was to go to a party for Stilton Lawrence, especially one where she'd be highlighted as part of his defense team in front of God knew how many people. She thought about feigning an illness, but then she'd be forced to skip work tomorrow to complete the illusion, and there was no way she could do that.

Her fingers trembled as she tried to smooth out her invite as best she could. Lavish parties like this demanded to see them at the door. She couldn't have hers looking like this. As she flattened it out, the creases reminded her of the webbed cracks on her cell phone screen from yesterday.

Emily paused, and sat there for a long minute, thinking about her options.

She spent the rest of the day working, but when five o'clock came, she left her work behind. She couldn't remember the last time she'd left work so early. But she didn't go back to her apartment to get ready for Brian's party. Instead, she took a cab to Bleecker Street.

Emily exited the taxi right in front of Stephen's home. She was about to do something either incredibly brilliant or incredibly stupid, she had no idea which. Lifting her chin, she climbed the front steps and knocked as hard as she could on the door. She waited.

No one answered.

Emily frowned and looked around until she found the doorbell. She pressed the button, and took a step back.

Nothing.

Was Stephen hiding inside, refusing to see her? The thought made her relive part of her fury from the night before. It slammed against her trepidation about tonight, making her feel slightly queasy.

"Excuse me? Are you in need of help?"

Emily jumped at the sound of a man's voice coming from the bottom of the steps. She pivoted and saw the Asian man who had answered the door yesterday. He resembled a monk with his shaved head and strange garb. An overload of grocery bags weighed down his arms.

"Do you mind?" the man asked. "I could use some help."

"Of course." Emily raced down and grabbed up two bags.

"Thanks. I remember you going up and down Bleeker Street yesterday. You looked lost."

"Not lost, just curious. My name's Emily, by the way."

"Good to meet you. I'm Wong. You want to come inside?" Wong brushed past her to get to the door. His hands quaked with the burden of the four bags Emily couldn't carry.

"Uh, yeah. I can come in. It looks like you'll need someone to drop these in the kitchen."

"That's for sure." Wong reached the door. Before Emily could offer to aid him in putting his bags down on the step, he let go of his groceries. She gasped, expecting to see them crash onto the concrete steps.

They didn't. Instead of falling, the grocery bags hovered in mid-air. Emily gaped as Wong dug around for an old-fashioned key. He found it in the folds of his robe and shoved it into the lock. With a click, the door opened. He stepped inside and the flying groceries followed.

Emily dragged her bags behind him, still in shock. When she managed to peel her eyes away from the levitating groceries, she stared around her in awe. This is where she had wanted to be for the past twenty-four hours. Inside this house. What had Stephen called it? A Sanctum? It sounded like a name for a mental institution. And judging by the odd décor and flying objects, complete with construction equipment lying around, Emily wondered if an institution wasn't a correct assessment.

Wong strolled away. "You can follow me down to the kitchen, if you want. But stay close."

Emily trailed behind him, careful not to bump into the floating bags.

"That's pretty cool," she said.

He turned his head. "Sorry?"

"You being able to just fly your groceries into the kitchen. It's useful. I wish I had that power."

Wong laughed. "It'd be a lot more useful if I could do it walking home."

"Why can't you?"

"Wouldn't be a good idea." Wong gifted her with an enigmatic smile. "Makes people uncomfortable."

Emily understood that all too well.

They drifted through a couple of old-fashioned rooms encased in shadow. Emily barely got a chance to see them before they arrived inside the kitchen. She placed her bags on a gleaming marble countertop. At least the kitchen looked normal.

"Is Stephen here?"

Wong shook his head. "He won't be back until later tonight, maybe even tomorrow."

Disappointment ate away at her gut. She tried to hide it by unloading her grocery bags onto the polished counter.

"Is everything ok?" Wong asked.

She sighed. So much for hiding her emotions. Did sorcerers notice  _everything_? "My client and my boss are kinda forcing me to go to this party tonight."

He arched an eyebrow. "Kind of forcing you?"

"It's a long story." Emily dug out the invite from her purse and handed it to him. "I was hoping Stephen could come with me, make the evening more tolerable."

As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. It was an idiotic idea. She shouldn't have come. She should have stuck to her original intent of finding answers, of keeping things professional. She prayed Wong wouldn't ask her why she'd come all this way just to ask out his roommate. Or whatever the hell Stephen and Wong were.

Wait. What if…?

"Um… " Emily wasn't sure how to word this. "Hey… Listen, if you and Stephen are, um, a couple, then I apologize…"

Wong belted out the loudest belly laugh Emily had ever heard. He laughed so hard he had to hold on to the counter to prevent himself from falling over. When he finally caught his breath, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, man. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time." He chuckled.

"Sorry. I just thought…"

"We're not a couple." Wong wiped away his tears. "I like you, Emily. If you leave the invitation here, I'll make sure he gets it."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

Another ripple of laughter from Wong's belly. "I'm sure."

"Thanks." Emily headed for the door. "I can show myself out."

Wong suddenly grew serious. "That's not a good idea."

Her pride rose to greet that pronouncement. "Why not? I can remember how to get back to the front door."

"The Sanctum is enveloped in magic. And it likes to play with guests. I don't want you to get sucked into another dimension."

Emily stayed close to Wong as he guided her to the door. Every turn, every stair, made Emily fear the walls might open up and swallow her alive. She hadn't been so grateful to step outside a building in her life.

Wong waved to her as she left. "Bye Emily. Thanks for coming. Oh, and if any of your friends are attacked by supernatural beings, or any interdimensional threats, make sure to tell them about us."

The door shut behind her.

It crossed her mind that Wong was crazy, that he might have exaggerated the magic inside his house. He'd been so jovial the entire time he'd guided her to the door. And then when he'd told her to recommend the Sanctum to her friends…? She shook her head. Maybe she should leave an online review.  _Great camaraderie inside a haunted house. Best place for all your supernatural needs._ It sounded like a real-life Ghostbuster ad. She smiled at the thought. It was the first time she'd worn a sincere smile all day.

It was a long cab ride home. Long enough for the anxiety to creep back in. As she readied herself for the party, Emily tried to shove the fear aside. She concentrated on the one thing she could control: her appearance. She did her hair and make-up as close to perfection as she could manage before slipping into a cocktail dress complete with heels. If she was going to have to face her boss and the Lawrences alone, she wanted to at least look confident doing it.

Emily took a taxi to the Upper West Side. She was directed by friendly staff to the rooftop deck.

"Invitation?" A host asked at the entrance to the terrace.

Her stomach rolled. She'd left it at the Sanctum. "Um… I'm so sorry. I don't have it. But I should be on the guest list. I'm Emily Graham."

"Just a moment." The host read through the list of names in front of him. Halfway down his list, he smiled. "Welcome, Miss Graham. It appears you're the guest of honor tonight."

She frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Behind her, a well-dressed man and his wife cleared their throats, waiting impatiently to enter. The host pointed her to the outside terrace, moving her along.

Emily stepped out onto the rooftop deck. The twilight of the Manhattan skyline greeted her like an old friend. A full bar stretched out on one side of the roof, with small standing tables placed in full view of a large dais at the opposite end where a stringed quartet played. The entire roof was lit by candlelight, save for a couple of standing lights waiting to flood the small stage. Servers strolled through, offering hor 'devours of quiche and salmon mousse, pot stickers and teriyaki beef. One of them offered her a kabob, but she was too nervous to eat. She waved it away.

Even in this serene setting, her fear was palpable. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Nothing bad could happen here, right? After all, she was the guest of honor, whatever the hell that meant. And there were dozens of people here already. Every one of them looked like they were having a good time. Emily was about to head to the bar to get a drink when a familiar figure caught her eye.

Stephen stood off by himself, not ten feet away from her. She could've swore he hadn't been there a moment ago. He was even dressed for the occasion in a black suit. He smiled and walked right up her. She felt her stomach flutter, and was grateful she hadn't eaten that kabob.

"I heard you needed a date tonight." Stephen's knowing smile was just this side of arrogant. Emily wondered if she'd made a big mistake, inviting him here. She didn't need another person making her feel inadequate.

"Something like that," Emily admitted. "But it's okay. Really. I can do this alone."

His face softened. Gone was the exaggerated self-importance of the handsome man in front of her. The compassion she'd clung to last night had replaced it. "I know you can, Emily. But you wanted me here for a reason, and I won't leave your side tonight. Not unless you want me to."

A tinge of expectation replaced the apprehension in her stomach, but she refused to analyze it now. She didn't have time. Maybe later, after this evening was over and she was back home.

"I'd like for you to stay," she found herself saying. "If you want to."

"I want to." Stephen smiled and offered his arm.

She took it.

"Shall we?" he said.


	7. Chapter 7

Stephen had spent the day in Genosha, and when he finally returned to the Sanctum, it was like a breath of fresh air to be home again. He envisioned spending the remaining hours of his night relaxing with a good book. He strolled down to the kitchen, hoping to find a quick bite to eat, when Wong intercepted him.

"Ah, Wong. How are things at Kamar Taj?"

"Not bad. I picked up some groceries after coming back."

"I see that." Stephen grabbed a Pink Lady apple from a bowl on the counter. "Thank you."

"Also, Emily stopped by here about an hour ago."

Stephen had the apple halfway to his mouth when Wong's declaration set in. He placed his dinner back on the counter. "Emily was here?"

Wong nodded. "She helped me bring in the groceries actually. Nice girl, but a little high-strung." Wong handed him a formal invitation, crinkled from either disuse or frustration, Stephen couldn't tell which. "She brought this for you. She wanted you to come with her to some party tonight. Said her boss and this guy hosting it were forcing her to be there."

Stephen fingered the creased edge with a frown as he skimmed the invitation.

"Since I had no idea when you were coming back, I told her you wouldn't be able to go."

His eyes snapped back up. "Brian Lawrence is hosting this party?"

Wong nodded.

"And Emily said she was being forced to go?"

Another nod. "That's what she said."

So much for a relaxing night at the Sanctum. He knew Brian Lawrence well. The man had been the head of the board of trustees when Stephen was a surgeon at New York Presbyterian Hospital, and was just this side of psychopathic. Anyone who showed the slightest sign of failure was belittled or fired outright. Brian didn't forgive and forget, and if he was forcing an underling like Emily to attend one of his infamous cocktail affairs, it would almost certainly be to her detriment.

With the speed of thought, Stephen traded his Kamar Taj attire for black slacks and a crisp white shirt. The Cloak of Levitation noted the change and morphed into a fitted black blazer. If Emily was frightened about this party, he wasn't about to leave the cloak behind.

Wong took in his change in appearance and shook his head. He grabbed Stephen's uneaten apple as he sauntered out. "I won't wait up."

Stephen smoothed out the cloak, testing the illusion. The cloak raised its collar and gave him a light smack on the cheek in response.

"I could leave you behind you know," Stephen quipped.

The cloak squeezed itself around Stephen in reply, taking the wind out of him.

Stephen gasped. "Okay. You've made your point."

The cloak relaxed.

"This is probably going to be a dull evening," Stephen said. "But be alert just in case. I'm meeting a woman named Emily. If it seems like she's in danger, get her back here safely."

Around his neck, Stephen felt his collar nod once in agreement.

"Here we go."

Stephen closed his eyes and envisioned the rooftop terrace of Brian Lawrence's West Side condominium. As long as he was somewhere near the Sanctum, he could draw on more than his own magic to teleport without creating the conspicuous golden ring of a portal.

He emerged at the far end of the candlelit terrace. This was definitely one of Brian's cocktail parties, the kind he typically threw at least once a year to display his wealth and prestige for Manhattan's elite. The top-of-the-line rail liquor, delicious food, and tedious conversation… it was all here. Brian had even hired a string quartet. Stephen had once loved attending pretentious soirees like this one, but no longer.

He saw Emily almost immediately, tuned into her aura as he was now. She looked for all the world like she was about to face a firing squad instead of mingling at a party. A mountain of insecurity haunted her eyes. And then she saw him, and relief washed over her face.

Stephen came to her side with a friendly smile. "I heard you needed a date tonight."

Something about his statement or his veneer made her defenses rise. She looked away. "You don't have to be here," she said. "It's okay. I can do this alone."

She was distancing herself emotionally, didn't altogether trust him maybe. Her tough exterior quelled the fear within her, but it would be only a temporary solution. Stephen tried again. "I know you can, Emily. But I won't leave your side tonight, not unless you want me to."

She studied his expression, his eyes, considering whether he was being sincere. Finally, she acquiesced. "I'd like for you to stay. If you want to."

"I want to." He smiled and offered his arm, wanting to show her she had nothing to fear, at least not from him.

She took it.

"Shall we?"

As he led Emily around the rooftop deck, he wasn't surprised to find he recognized most of the patrons. Back when he'd worked at New York Presbyterian, these were the very elite who would fund new wings for the hospital, who always had a few extra thousand dollars for "charity projects," so long as their names were etched on a commemorative plague when said projects were completed.

Several of the patrons stopped to gape when they noticed him.

"Stephen Strange! Oh my God, is that really you? Where have you been?"

"Are you still practicing neurosurgery?"

"We miss you, Stephen!"

The niceties bombarded him as he made the rounds. Everyone he talked to offered their condolences about his car accident from years ago, if they knew at all. It made him slightly uncomfortable to be talking so much about his past, to be taking attention away from Emily. She was the one who'd been invited after all. But one look at her face and he realized she'd much rather be out of the spotlight. Wong had been correct. She was troubled by something.

When they had a moment to themselves, Emily visibly relaxed. "I had no idea you knew so many people here…"

"Believe me, I wish I didn't."

She pointed to the other end of the rooftop terrace. "It looks like the mayor is here tonight," she said. "Along with Senator Franklin and a congressman who isn't even our representative in the House." She frowned. "Why not Congresswoman Bailey? She's our rep."

Stephen processed this. Brian loved having influential people attend his gatherings, but those people were always a means to an end. Inviting a congressman who couldn't do anything for Brian seemed like a waste of resources. If Brian wanted a favor, he would have made sure Congresswoman Bailey had come instead.

"It could just be a coincidence," Emily continued. "But that's a lot of political power in one place, don't you think? Especially since everyone is supposed to be here for Stilton." She checked the crowd. "Where  _is_  Stilton, by the way?"

Stephen didn't believe in coincidences. Whatever Brian had planned for tonight, he wanted a political audience to see it. And his son not to.

"Congresswoman Bailey is against HR 8275," Emily continued. "But all the politicians I see here are on the fence about the bill."

Stephen shot her a wary look. "You've done your research."

"Research is the one thing I was able to do today." She gave him her own wary look. "Especially since I didn't have any photographs…"

Emily was about to say more but froze mid-sentence. A Korean woman Stephen didn't recognize had spotted them. The woman snaked her way toward them, determination and self-satisfaction pouring from her soul.

"Linda Chao." The woman extended her hand to Stephen. As he shook it, he couldn't help but compare her masked emotions with the blank faces of the Cotati. "It's so nice to see Emily out of the office," Linda said. "I had no idea she had the time to date."

"You must be her boss." Stephen laced his fingers with Emily's, hoping this connection would give her a measure of strength against the mocking jape from Linda. "And Emily and I just met yesterday."

Linda raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her red wine. "Are you the sorcerer who broke into her apartment?"

Emily's hand went limp in his, and Stephen let go.

"Did Emily tell you about me?" Stephen kept his voice even.

"She mentioned a sorcerer appeared inside her apartment." Linda's eyes were ice. "Unasked and uninvited."

"Did she?" Stephen studied the faces of Emily and Linda in turn. If Emily had brought him here to ensnare him in order to further her career, it would be a very uncomfortable night for her.

"She did," Linda replied. "And I know how I would react if a strange man materialized inside my apartment without warning."

Emily found her voice. "I'm glad he was there," she said.

"Even if he damaged your property?" Linda turned to Stephen. "Is this the kind of thing we can anticipate from you inhumans in the future? A violation of our civil rights?" A look of triumph settled on her face.

One look at the anguish on Emily's features, and Stephen knew she hadn't set him up. His anger toward her evaporated. But if this Linda Chao wanted to begin a battle of wits, she would be a bloodied mess when he was finished with her. He was about to answer with a pithy retort when the sound of his name being shouted across the terrace interrupted him.

"Doctor Stephen Strange!"

Stephen knew that voice. He glanced in its direction. Brian Lawrence had spotted him. Well, a battle was always better with an audience, even if that audience was Brian.

Stephen pasted a grin on his face and squeezed Emily's hand. "Here we go," he murmured.

Emily gazed at him in confusion and despair.

"Stephen Strange!" Brian wrapped him in a tense embrace, the kind that displayed a show of strength instead of genuine affection. He patted Stephen on the back as he let go. "My God! Is it really you?"

Linda studied Stephen with hawk-like intensity now.

"Hello Brian." Stephen shook the older man's hand and turned to Emily. "Brian was the chair of the board of trustees at New York Presbyterian when I was a neurosurgeon."

Emily's jaw dropped, and the look of shock on her face at Stephen knowing the host so intimately was worth the inconvenience of a scumbag like Brian draped all over him.

"Stephen was also on the board. He was the best neurosurgeon in the world. The best!" Brian slapped him on the back. "Until the accident that crippled you, right Stephen?"

Brian had always enjoyed bringing up times of trauma or weakness in others, but Stephen kept his anger in check. It wouldn't be good to thrust Brian into the Dark Dimension here, at least not with so many witnesses.

"Accident?" Linda took another sip of her wine, a bemused smile forming at the corners of her lips. "Do tell."

Brian nodded gravely. He answered Linda before Stephen could. "Car accident. Tumbled down a cliff in a… Porsche, right? Or was it a Maserati?"

Stephen gritted his teeth. "Lamborghini."

"Irrecoverable nerve damage to his hands." Brian continued. He shook his head. "Damn loss to our neurosurgery unit. And to neuroscience as a whole. This man was a god in surgery. A god! You should've heard the stories…"

"That's a shame." Linda's smile twisted. "Though he's apparently a sorcerer now, isn't that right Stephen?"

Brian titled his head back and laughed so loud everyone within earshot stared at him. "A sorcerer?" Brian wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. "Good God, Linda. Are you serious?"

Time to turn the tables. Stephen grinned at both Linda and Brian in turn. "Linda loves to jest, doesn't she? My powers only rise every other vernal equinox, I'm afraid. I'd show everyone a trick, but I left my magic wand and cauldron back at home."

Brian laughed louder, enjoying the joke. He didn't seem to notice Emily and Stephen weren't sharing in his glee. Nor did he notice Linda's face turning red with anger.

But Stephen did. He turned to Linda and went in for the kill.

"Emily told you I magically appeared in her apartment last night." From deep inside his pocket, Stephen wove a quick enchantment and lifted out a simple house key. "Well,  _this_  certainly helped."

The blood drained from Linda's face as Brian roared with laughter. "You see?" Brian said. "This is why I have Linda on retainer. Never a dull moment!"

To Linda's credit, her smile remained on her face. "Glad to be a source of entertainment for you, Mr. Lawrence. Will you excuse me, please?"

She slipped past them, heading to the opposite side of the balcony. As she passed Emily, she gripped her underling's arm and hissed, "You'll pay for this."

Emily deflated beside him.

Brian patted Stephen on the back again, promising to get together with him sometime soon for drinks or for golf at his club in the Hampton's. Then Brian excused himself to mingle with more of his guests.

Stephen pivoted to Emily. She looked crushed from what had just occurred, but managed to glare up at him. He touched her aura and found her body shaking from an outpouring of anger that had nothing to do with the sharp night breeze.

"I know you don't believe me…" Stephen began. "But I honestly wasn't trying to get you in trouble with your boss…" He shrugged out of the Cloak of Levitation-turned-blazer and placed it over her shoulders. The tiniest tremor raced through the cloak, and then it went still.

Emily seemed surprised at the gift of warmth from his blazer. She stopped shaking.

"Tell me, Emily, what was I supposed to say to Linda? To Brian?"

"I don't know." She looked away. "But saying  _anything_  besides making me look like an utter fool would've been marvelous."

She walked straight to the bar with the cloak around her shoulders. He followed.

Once she had the bartender's attention, she asked for two fingers of bourbon, neat. She downed her drink in one gulp.

Stephen eyed her empty glass. "I wasn't trying to make your night worse."

Emily laughed and motioned for a refill. "Yeah, well… it's worse."

"Will you allow me to explain?"

She eyed him wearily but nodded.

He led her away from the crowd, to a high table on the emptier side of the roof. A flickering candle danced at the table's center. The wind picked up, and Emily pulled the disguised cloak closer to her skin. She drank half of her second bourbon before engaging.

"You lied to Linda," Emily said. "To Brian."

"Not completely. I just… exaggerated a bit." He grinned. "I do have a cauldron but not a magic wand."

Emily wasn't amused. "You made my boss look like a fool in front of her most important client."

"And you told your boss all about last night, so I'd say we're even."

"Linda wanted me to  _use_  you for my case, to make it seem like your powers were a danger to me. I told her that wasn't going to happen." She downed the rest of her second glass. "God, I hope she doesn't fire me."

"I'm not sure your being fired would be the worst thing…"

"That is  _not_  your choice to make. It's mine."

Stephen sighed. She was right. It was her life, not his. "Yes. It is your choice. But I've been where you are, bowing and scraping to money and privilege. It only fills the emptiness for so long. Believe me."

He stepped closer to her. "And I apologize for creating that key, for not being completely honest with Brian or your boss. But I've done this dance before with people. Many times, in fact. The rumors spread. People hear about me, about what I can do. They all have questions. It never ends well. I'm either pegged as a charlatan, or seen as delusional. Best to make people laugh and send them on their way."

She nodded and put her glass down. She shivered again.

"Why don't we get you something to eat?"

"That would require getting closer to where Linda is, and I'd rather stay here."

"I can get you something."

Her face softened. "You don't have to. To be honest, I'd rather not be alone."

"We'll go together then. If Linda tries anything, I'll turn her into a Yeti."

Emily smiled as he held out his arm to her once again. They maneuvered through the crowd, toward the nearest hor 'devour platter, but the piercing screech of a microphone halted their progress. Everyone grew quiet. The string quartet was gone. Brian Lawrence stood at the top of the small dais at the other end of the rooftop, microphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentleman, I want to thank you for attending another one of my little soirees." He waited for the titters of laughter to die down before continuing. "Your presence here means the world to me, and to my son. As you know, Stilton has had a tough year. He barely got away with his life…"

Emily snorted back a laugh, causing several people nearby to glare at her. She didn't seem to care, and Stephen wondered if she'd drunk that bourbon on an empty stomach.

"… When my son was attacked by an inhuman, as people with powers are now being called, it put us in a difficult position. We thank all of you for your generosity in donating to Stilton's defense fund. Leftover proceeds will, with your permission, be sent to the reelection campaigns of Senator Franklin and Congressman Curtis. Now, I know Congressman Curtis isn't technically in our district, but we need their leadership to pass a new bill, one that will register inhumans with local and state governments. That registration will then be permanent record, on file to keep us all safe."

Clapping filled the night, and rage filled Stephen's soul. This was why the politicians were in attendance, why so many wealthy friends of Brian's were here tonight. It had nothing to do with his son's defense, not really. It was a ruse to get support for that damn bill.

Stephen frowned over at Emily, noting she looked as confused as he felt. So how did she fit into all this? Why was she here at all?

Brian tapped the microphone as the clapping died down. "I'd love for Stilton's defense team to come up. We have a team of the best defense attorneys in the city trying to free my son of all charges."

Emily went rigid. One look in her eyes, and Stephen knew she had no idea what was going on. Brian glanced around the rooftop, looking for his lawyers. Stephen felt Emily press closer to him, trying to hide.

"Ah, there she is! Emily Graham, can you please come up and say a few words?"

Her eyes pleaded with Stephen.

Stephen glanced up at the dais, then back at the trembling women at his side. "What do you want me to do?" he whispered.

"What  _can_  you do?"

He grinned. "I can open a portal to a pocket dimension. Some mind maggots would be a great distraction. They'd liven this party right up."

"Would anyone get hurt?"

"Probably."

"Yeah, I'll pass."

"Thank you." He squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."

She slumped her shoulders and headed for the stage.

Stephen watched her go. He scanned the crowd for Linda, waiting for anyone from Chao and Benowitz to join Emily, but no one did.

He frowned. Hadn't Brian asked for his whole defense team? Maybe Linda and company were in the restroom. His eyes scanned the terrace until he found Linda. She made no move to join her underling. She simply stood there, sipping her drink. A man whispered in Linda's ear, pointing to the dais. Linda shook her head.

Something was wrong.

Stephen searched the crowd. All eyes were fixated on the stage, waiting for Emily to find her place beside Brian. Even the servers and bartenders were as still as possible, careful not to divert attention from the stage.

Except for one.

A young man wearing the black and white attire of the servers moved with purpose toward the dais. That in and of itself wouldn't have set off Stephen intuition in the slightest, except for the fact that the man's soul reeked with hostility while his eyes locked on Brian. And Emily.

Stephen pushed through the crowd to get to the man, his focus now off of Emily and glued to the server who moved as if he was entranced. Stephen whispered an incantation but couldn't find any spell holding the man hostage to his actions. Which meant whoever this server was, he was acting of his own free will.

Emily's voice rang out through the speakers, covering the night. "Um, hello everyone. As Brian mentioned, my name is Emily Graham…"

The server kept coming, his gaze fixed on the stage. A strange glow emitted from the server's closed fists, dim but growing brighter.

Stephen had been kidding about the mind maggots, but now he briefly considered them. They would create the necessary distraction. Unfortunately, they would also cause far more damage than this one server was capable of, so Stephen kept moving closer to him.

Only fifteen feet away now. Ten…

He had to see what was glowing in that man's hands. The last thing he wanted was to use his powers here if the poor server was simply delivering lit candles to the head table.

The server finally noticed Stephen. He raised his hands with a sickening smirk.

Fire. He was holding fire. His fists were twin torches of flame.

The server raised his fists toward the dais. Next to the server, several party-goers screamed in fright.

Stephen didn't think, he just reacted. Twin Rings of Raggadorr burst from his hands. One of them flew in disc form at the server, knocking him off balance. The other encased the fiery fists of the crazed man.

Chaos erupted all around Stephen. Cries of terror suffocated the air as a stampede partygoers tried to run away from the glow of magic and fire around them. They needn't have bothered. The server's only focus was the dais. On top of that stage, Brian darted to the right. Emily dodged to the left.

The man followed Emily.

Stephen didn't have time to analyze why. The server raised his fists and channeled his energy in a yell of defiance. A roar of flame ripped apart the Eldritch shields locked onto his hands. His powers now free, the man glared over at Emily. He pulled back a fist to throw a ball of fire directly at her.

But Stephen was faster. As Emily raced away, Stephen opened a gateway right behind her. The Cloak of Levitation, still masquerading as a blazer, wrapped itself tightly around her and yanked her through. The server hurled a blast of flame toward the gateway, but Stephen snapped it shut before it hit. Emily was safe.

The server stopped. His fists lowered, but stayed aflame.

Stephen walked right up him. "Hello asshole. You just ruined my night."

Twin Eldritch whips flew from Stephen's hands. They wrapped around the server, forcing him to his knees. Another burst from his hands and twin Rings of Raggadorr shields cemented themselves to the man's fists, binding his power. The server grunted and twisted his body to escape. But every time he moved, the whips and shields grew tighter.

Stephen pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. Charles Xavier answered on the first ring.

"Hello, Charles? It's Stephen. Listen, I need you on the Upper West Side as soon as possible. We need to interrogate an inhuman who tried to burn a friend of mine alive. I'll open a portal whenever you're ready."

From his peripheral vision, Stephen turned to see a remnant of curious partygoers gaping at him. A few of the younger patrons had their phones at the ready, snapping photos and recording him. He let out a long sigh.

"As soon as possible please, Charles. I'm about to get a raging headache, and it looks like you'll be erasing some memories from a  _lot_  of people here tonight."


	8. Chapter 8

Emily had raced from the dais, desperate to get away from the man with the fire coming from his hands. The metal steps at stage left were right in front of her. She had no idea if she could get down them fast enough, but she had to try. She stumbled over her heels, cursing both the shoes and the bourbon.

The man kept coming. He raised his hands. His eyes were twin globes of pure hate as he launched his fist toward the dais. A ball of fire flew straight at her.

She was trapped.

Suddenly, the blazer around her shoulders tightened. The material wrapped around the length of her body and whipped her back.

Emily fell, backwards and down…

… And through a golden ring.

She cried out, watching the night sky diminishing above her. She imagined her spine being crushed when she landed on the concrete terrace. But instead of falling onto the unyielding cement, she found herself collapsing into a plush oversized chair. The ring above her disappeared, and a ceiling materialized in its place.

Confused and partially terrified, she shot furtive glances all around her. The chair she'd landed in sat atop a Persian rug. Beside her, a fire danced softly inside a stone fireplace. Wood paneling lined the walls around the room, and every inch of those walls were filled with dense shelves overflowing in hardback books. And in front of one of the shelves, holding one of those dusty books, was Wong.

He nodded to Emily and casually pointed to a spot behind her. "The curtain's on fire."

Emily whipped around to see the thick maroon curtain behind her engulfed in flame.

She gasped. Some of the fireball must have come through with her. She jumped to her feet just in time to see Wong hold up a hand in front of the curtain, as if tacitly ordering it to stop. The flames winked out.

Wong lowered his hand and scooped up his book. "Must've been some party."

"Some crazy guy almost burned me to death."

"I see the Cloak of Levitation kept you safe tonight."

"The Cloak…" Emily plucked at the blazer draped over her shoulders. Only it was no longer a blazer. It had transformed into a thick red cape with gold ornamental clasps at the bottom edges of a tall collar. It lifted itself from Emily's shoulders and gave her a little bow.

Emily was stunned into silence.

Wong smiled. "It likes you."

"But… I was wearing Stephen's blazer."

"No, you were wearing the cloak. And Stephen wouldn't have let you wear his relic unless he was actively trying to protect you."

"His... relic?" Emily reached out and grazed the cloak with her fingertips. She half expected the magical cape to be ticklish or to react to her touch, but it just floated in front of her, as if it were as transfixed by Emily as she was with the cloak.

"So what happened at the party?" Wong asked.

She collapsed back into the chair she'd magically fallen into and put her head in her hands. "I don't know. One minute I'm fighting back a panic attack at making a public speech, and the next thing I know a man with fire hands was coming toward me. Stephen made these… golden chains and shields from out of nowhere. He held the guy back, but…"

Watching magic, real magic, unfold in front of her had been nothing short of surreal. Last night when Stephen had fixed her cell phone screen, the simple act had been tangible, almost like an illusion in and of itself, but one where she could touch the smooth glass to force her mind to accept what was right in front of her. But seeing golden chains whip through the air, intricate patterns lighting up the night sky from the hands of a man who'd been her last minute date at a party bordered on the miraculous. He'd saved her life not five minutes ago. She was still trying to make sense of it all.

Wong's cell phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen. "It looks like Stephen won't be back for a while."

Emily nodded, rubbing her arms. She wondered how much difficulty she'd inadvertently put Stephen through tonight.

"Go ahead and make yourself at home." Wong strolled to the door. "Just… don't touch anything."

If it had been anyone else giving her such a childish command, she would've rolled her eyes and ignored them on general principle. But not here. She sat in the antique chair for a good five minutes, watching the fire and trying to ignore the floating cape hovering next to her. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She stood up, stretched, and headed for the hallway. The cape followed.

Outside the library, Emily encountered the same litter of construction materials she'd noticed in the foyer earlier today when carrying Wong's groceries. She tiptoed over wooden planks and down the hallway until she came to an enlarged staircase. She decided to go up.

On the top floor, she gazed around her in awe. Glass cases filled with ancient objects and artifacts filled the room. It was like being inside a museum. She was careful not to touch the objects, but spent her time admiring each one. They ranged from an uninspired spear to a deadened amethyst ring that looked like it belonged on the finger of a pope.

She yawned. She had no idea what time it was. Leaving the intricate museum behind, she headed back down to the library. The room was empty. The fire was the same height it had been when she'd left, and she wondered if its flames would burn all night without any fuel to sustain it. Everything in this place seemed to be magical.

Emily slipped back into her chair. Tucking her legs underneath her, she closed her eyes. A heavy cloth settled over her. Her eyes snapped open to see the red cloak covering her like a blanket. She slept.

#

She wasn't sure what woke her, but something did. Emily shot up in her chair. A flash of gold sparks flickered near her. She turned her head and saw the sparks of flickering gold expand to create a wavering ring. When the ring was fully formed, she saw Stephen standing on the other side. He stepped from the party terrace and through the portal.

Stephen looked every bit the sorcerer now. His outfit was no longer the suit from the party, but dark blue robes fashioned like a contemporary martial arts gi, with a motley assortment of belts across his waist and something that looked like ribbons woven around the arms of the navy material. As soon as the portal closed behind him, the red cloak rushed over to drape itself around his shoulders.

"How are you?" he asked her.

She stretched and stood to her feet. "Grateful."

"Did Wong show you around?"

"I sort of showed myself around."

His lips quirked slightly at that, and Emily wondered if there was something here he didn't want her to see. Or maybe he was amused by her audacity.

"I didn't take any pictures," Emily said. "I mean, in case you were wondering."

"Thank you. Some of the relics upstairs are a bit camera shy."

"Relics... like your cloak?"

Stephen grinned. "My relic is definitely  _not_  shy."

"I saw the most incredible things upstairs… This place is amazing."

"If you stick around until the morning, the clamor of construction may change your mind about the amazement."

The conversation died on his lips. Emily wondered if he had actually just extended an invitation for her to stay the night, or if it was just a broad statement.

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, that sounded like a proposition…"

"No, it's okay."

An awkward silence hung over them. Stephen was the first to break it. "So… about what happened tonight, and what's about to happen. I hate to drop this on you. I know you've already been through a lot…"

Emily straightened, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

'The police will be arriving at the Upper West Side any moment now."

She frowned. "But it's been at least an hour, hasn't it?"

"Several hours."

"Why did it take them so long to get there?"

Stephen didn't answer, but he also didn't break eye contact. Emily studied his gaze, his expression.

"Did you… keep the police away?"

"No, but I did call a friend of mine who was able to."

Stephen found the nearest chair and sank into it. Emily decided to follow suit. They sat across from each other, neither of them saying a word. The roaring fire cast an intimate glow over the library, a contrast from the restraint between them.

Stephen was the first to speak. "I need to take you back to the party. Or what's left of it."

"What?  _Why?_ "

"Again, I'm sorry. My friend and I spoke, and while it would behoove us to erase your memories about tonight…"

Emily sucked in a breath.

"… we want to give you a choice."

Emily grew cold. "I'm listening."

Stephen leaned forward, his hands clasped together. "What happened earlier… it was fortunate no one got hurt. Actually, it was lucky you weren't killed."

"Thanks to you."

His smile was short-lived. "My friend went into the mind of the man who attacked you tonight. And that man was attacking  _you_ , Emily. Not Brian. Not anyone else at that party. Only you."

Emily's stomach dropped.

"Do you have any idea why he would do that?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Is this friend of yours the one who forced us all to leave Bleecker Street last night?"

Stephen gave a reluctant nod. "He's a telepath, yes. The man who attacked you tonight wasn't under any spell. And he wasn't mentally coerced. But he was completely focused on leaving you dead, and making sure everyone at the party saw it. In fact, it was the one piece of information my friend was able to glean from the entire night."

It took her a moment to find her voice. "I see."

"And you have no idea why that man would want to kill you?"

She didn't trust herself to speak. She shook her head.

"Have you ever met him before?"

"Never."

"Seen him someplace? Try to think. Take as much time as you need."

She didn't need time to think about it. While she might not have a photographic memory, she did have a pretty damn good one. "I know I've never seen that man before tonight."

"That's what I thought." Stephen stood. He offered his hand to help her rise to her feet. "For what it's worth, I think he was being used."

"By who?"

"Brian Lawrence."

His words were like a physical blow. She stepped back, her mind reeling. "Why in the world would Brian want to hurt me?"

"I don't think Brian cares who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants. And right now that's his son getting a trial that ends with his acquittal, as well as seeing HR 8275 passed. Having a young woman, Stilton's own lawyer, killed at one of his parties would do that job nicely. It would delay Stilton's trial and gain sympathy votes in Congress. Two birds, one stone."

Emily didn't think she could feel any worse than she already did. And now she had to process the fact that her client could be a sociopath. She felt sick to her stomach.

"It's just a theory," Stephen said.

She nodded. Stephen had obviously given a lot of thought to everything that had happened, but it was circumstantial evidence at best. Still, she prided herself on self-preservation, and there was no way she was going to be caught off-guard like that again. Not in front of Brian, Linda, or anyone. "I'll watch my back."

Stephen stepped closer to her, and Emily felt her breath catch in her throat in spite of herself. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? She tried to think of something to say, but her voice failed her.

He reached out, maybe to place his hands in hers, to offer words of comfort or encouragement. She didn't know. And she didn't wait. She closed the distance between them instead and wrapped her arms around him.

All she wanted was to feel safe, just for a moment. A hug was innocuous, right? She closed her eyes, resting her face against his chest and breathed in the scent of him combined with a trace of sweet incense from his clothing. He tightened his embrace, as if he understood the solace she needed. His lips brushed against the top of her head. She was afraid he'd move to pull away, but he didn't.

"Just so you're aware," Stephen whispered, "my friend altered the memories of every party guest still within a five block radius of the building, not to cover up anything but to make sure this incident wouldn't be used as a tool by anyone with ulterior motives. The people who saw what happened tonight believed they witnessed an arsonist who targeted the stage."

"In that case, what in the world do I tell the police?" She kept her cheek against the warmth of his chest.

He caressed her hair. "Just tell them the truth."

"Even if they ask me about you, or this friend of yours?"

His hand stopped their caress, but only for a second. "I'll leave that up to you. Whatever you want to tell them is fine."

"Are you sure?" She lifted her head, checking for any note of caution behind his eyes.

His hands cupped her face. "I'm sure."

His fingertips stroked her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, not sure what was about to happen but open to anything…

But instead, Stephen froze. He stared off into space, as if listening to something or someone only he could hear. It only lasted for a moment, but when he gave her his full attention again, his hands dropped. The tenderness in his eyes was now replaced with urgency.

"It's time to go," he said.

She wanted to tell him it was too soon, that she wanted to stay for just a little longer, but the words died in her throat.

He stepped back and waved his hands in front of them in a circular motion. A golden ring formed, growing larger until it was wide enough to enter. On the other side of the ring, the rooftop terrace waited in the glow of police spotlights.

"Once you step through, I'll close the portal, but this is where I leave you."

Emily nodded gravely. Disappointment flooded her soul.

As if Stephen could sense her mood, he reached out to her one last time. He bowed his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Her lips felt like warm silk against her skin. She tried not to tremble and failed.

He stepped away from her once more. Emily breathed in a reserve of courage and walked through the portal.

#

She didn't get back to her apartment until well after midnight. She had no idea being questioned by the police would take so damn long. She didn't even bother brushing her teeth or washing off her makeup. The best she could do was cast off her heels and throw her dress and hose over a chair before she passed out on top of the bed. She didn't even hear her alarm the next morning.

She took her time getting ready for work, not caring in the slightest if she was late. When she finally meandered in at around 10 o'clock with a coffee in hand, everyone stopped to stare at her. She didn't care. She breezed into her small office ready to work. Even if it was possible her client had plotted her murder, as Stephen had suggested, she would still do her job to defend his son. The irony was so thick she could choke on it.

The police had asked her many questions last night, but none focused on anyone except the wrathful inhuman encased in magic. Apparently, the police had tried locking handcuffs on the man, but they had melted off. Only Stephen's spell held him. The police were baffled about the spell. They couldn't remove the magic, and had no idea where it had come from. They asked Emily if she knew anything about it, but she had shrugged and feigned ignorance. She had been happy to give as many details on her trauma as she could, but she wasn't about to mention Stephen.

It wasn't until an older man in an electric wheelchair came up that the police ended their barrage. The man was dressed in an expensive suit, and as he spoke to the police about taking the fire thrower into custody, Emily realized where she recognized him. He was the man with the wheelchair from 177A Bleecker Street the previous night.

Emily was all set to question the man seated before her, to ask him about why he'd been at the Sanctum, when he'd nodded to her and wheeled himself away. Without a word, the police and the man in magic chains followed behind him. She had no idea where they went, only that she had then been free to go.

"Emily?" There was a soft rap on her office door and Megan, one of her younger colleagues, poked her head inside. "We all heard about last night."

"Office gossip travels quickly."

Megan opened the door wider. "Linda said someone tried to kill you."

"Well, he obviously didn't do a good enough job. I'm still here." Emily smiled. "By the way, do you have the stats from the jury consulting firm I asked you for last month?"

"Did I not give them to you?"

"No. And the Lawrence trial starts in less than six weeks."

"Sorry. I know this was supposed to be a team effort, but we're all so swamped. I'll have them for you as soon as I can."

"Thanks Megan."

The younger attorney ducked out.

Emily was surprised by the well wishes she experienced as she went about her day. Foggy sent around a card and flowers, and Megan organized a girls' lunch date at the Charlie Bird restaurant, an eatery Emily had been dying to try for years. Maybe she should be marked for death more often. When Linda knocked on her door in the mid-afternoon, Emily was ready for her.

"Linda. Won't you come in?"

Linda Chao padded into the office. Emily stood up from her desk, gaze fixed and posture straight. Anything her boss could throw at her wouldn't be as bad as being the fixation of an enhanced super thug the night before. But Linda walked right up to her and wrapped her in a hug.

Emily couldn't have been more surprised if her boss had decided to jump out the window.

When Linda let go, she pulled back to study Emily's face. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt?"

She was stunned by Linda's concern. Her boss had never shown the least bit of compassion to anyone, even when one of her coworkers had started going into labor last year. Linda had ordered someone to call an ambulance and then told the poor girl not to have her water break on the carpet.

"I'm fine," Emily replied.

"Thank God for that sorcerer boyfriend of yours."

Emily felt the air leave her lungs. Hadn't Stephen said his friend had altered everyone's memory last night? "I'm sorry?"

"Stephen. The neurosurgeon turned sorcerer who stopped the inhuman from attacking you. Can you imagine if Stephen hadn't been there last night?"

She felt the room spinning around her. What had Stephen said about his telepathic friend changing their memories? Had he only been able to do it in a four-block radius? Or was it five? If someone had been outside of that radius, did they retain every detail of the party? God, they must have.

Emily sank down into her chair to buy time to collect her thoughts. "What do you remember?"

Linda sat in the chair opposite her. "I remember thinking you were playing me about Stephen, trying to have a sick joke at my expense." Her eyes narrowed. "Your boyfriend brought out that key after all…"

Emily opened her mouth to interrupt, but Linda held up a hand.

"Wait, I'm not finished. It didn't occur to me until he began throwing those strange golden Frisbees in the air that he could have  _created_  that key. I mean he is a sorcerer after all, yes?"

Linda was turning the tables on her, attempting to put Emily on the defensive. She wasn't having it. Not anymore. "Brian asked for his whole legal team up on that stage. Why didn't you join me?"

"I don't remember Brian asking for the whole team. I'm sorry I wasn't up there with you." She reached over the table and placed her hand on Emily's. It was ice cold. "I am so sorry you had to go through that alone."

In all of her years as a lawyer, Emily had developed a sixth sense when it came to liars. Her intuition wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was there and honed by time and experience. Linda was lying. And Emily had no idea why the woman in front of her would lie about something like that. Survivor's guilt, maybe? Or was it something more? Linda had never shown the slightest tendency to feel guilty about anything. A long silence fell over them.

It was too much for Linda. She got to her Atwood-heeled feet. "We'll have a team meeting next week with the Lawrences. I've put pressure on Megan and Foggy to pull their weight, but you're our star. Don't let us down."

She patted Emily's hand once more and left the office. The door shut solidly behind her.

Instead of going back home a few hours later, Emily asked her taxi driver to take her back to Greenwich Village. She wasn't sure she'd be welcome at the Sanctum, but she hoped she would be. She also hoped someone was actually home because for all she knew Stephen and Wong were off battling mind maggots somewhere, or whatever sorcerers did for their day jobs. She took the steps two at a time and was all set to knock on the front door when it opened in front of her.

"We've been expecting you." Stephen gifted her with a mysterious smile. Gone was the intricate navy gi he'd worn last night after the party. In its place was a black T-shirt and jeans. "Please come in."

Emily stepped through to the enormous foyer, expecting to see Wong. But the man in the wheelchair from last night waited inside.

"Hello Emily," the man said. "I'm Charles Xavier. And we have a lot to discuss."


	9. Chapter 9

Professor Charles Xavier didn't look menacing to Emily, but she'd learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. She took her measure of him: kind eyes gazing at her from an unlined face, an aura of strength that radiated not just power but compassion. A man who seemed to care, and yet…

"Emily, do you remember me from the party last night?" Charles asked.

She nodded. "I do. I saw you talking to the police, and then taking away the man with fire for hands."

"He's a very disturbed man, Emily. He needs help, more than what conventional mental health facilities or prison can offer."

"I also saw you leaving this place two nights ago." She tried to keep her voice steady but failed. "Are you the telepath Stephen was telling me about?"

"Yes."

"The one who tried to force me, and all the others, to leave Bleecker Street that night?"

He nodded.

"And the one who would've erased all of my memories of the party last night had I not been given a choice?"

"Yes."

Emily swallowed her rage. Charles Xavier didn't deny it. Why would he? If he didn't like the outcome of this conversation, he could simply delete it from her mind and there was nothing she could do about it. Fear replaced her anger, trickling through her veins like an I.V. drip.

"You don't have to be afraid Emily," Charles said. "I'm not going to manipulate your mind in any way."

His words did nothing to alleviate her fear.

"I came to help Stephen after he bound the man trying to kill you…"

"Stephen thinks the man was attacking me personally," Emily said. "But I refuse to believe a complete stranger would go out of his way to kill me, not without proof. Anyone on that stage could've been his target last night."

Charles gave her a soft smile, the kind of expression you'd reserve for a child's ignorance. "That man  _was_  trying to kill you Emily. And only you. I read his mind. And I had Stephen rely that information to you."

She went still.

Charles continued. "The man wasn't born with those powers. He's not a mutant. He was changed by someone."

"Enhanced," Emily said. "Isn't that the right word?"

Charles nodded. "It's a gentle term for the very disturbing practice of conducting genetic experiments on humans, though from my research it seems these experiments work more…  _effectively_  on those who carry the mutant gene." He turned to Stephen "Perhaps we could talk somewhere more private?"

Stephen opened one of his magic portals next to them. It led from the Sanctum's foyer and into a small study, complete with an antique desk, standing globe, and more bookshelves. Charles flipped a switch on his electric wheelchair and entered the portal first. Emily glanced at Stephen, hesitant to go through. How much did she trust this sorcerer and his inhuman friend?

Stephen waited. "You don't have to go through the portal, or even talk to Charles, unless you want to."

Him giving her the choice was enough. Emily rested in his reassurance and stepped through.

On the other side of the portal, Charles waited next to the fireplace where another beautiful fire burned, and Emily wondered if fires just lit themselves automatically whenever Stephen wanted one. Maybe they never extinguished themselves at all, which might be perfect during the winter months but on hot day in July, it was a bit much.

"I'm sure Stephen can extinguish the fire if you're too warm," Charles said.

And just like that, Emily's fear flew back inside her stomach. "Please stop reading my mind."

Charles smiled. "Of course."

But she didn't believe he'd stop. Maybe he didn't want to. Or maybe reading minds was as natural as breathing to him, and he couldn't cease doing it even if he tried.

Emily wasn't sure why she'd come back to Bleecker Street today, but she knew she hadn't expected to talk to Charles Xavier. She'd read the articles he'd written on mutants, his views against registering inhumans. When Stephen had offered to get her in touch with the professor two nights ago at her apartment, she'd been delighted. Charles Xavier could be a wealth of information for her case. But now that she was face-to-face with a man who could simply erase her mind of anything and everything, she wished she'd just gone home from work instead and settled for a phone call instead.

"I have something I'd like you to read, Emily." Charles pressed a button on the arm of his wheelchair and positioned himself closer to the desk. He picked up a manila folder and handed it to her.

She frowned. "What is this?"

"It's something I've been adding to for a while now. Open it and see."

She did. The contents inside were a combination of photographs and various documents, including school records and reports. It contained the very things she'd hoped a P.I. would find about Derrick, only the contents in this folder weren't about Derrick. They were all about Stilton Lawrence.

Emily scanned through them with a critical eye. "Why are you giving me information about my own client?"

Stephen plopped onto a plush chair that was similar to the one Emily had landed on less than twenty-four hours earlier. He watched her as he steepled his fingers under his chin. "Keep reading."

She stifled a sigh and turned her attention away from the pictures to the written documents. When she got to the one with the header "Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters" she stopped cold. Her eyes flew up to meet Charles.

"Stilton Lawrence is… a  _mutant_?"

Charles nodded.

"But… he  _hates_  mutants."

"He's been trying to suppress his abilities," Charles explained.

"Which are what exactly?"

Stephen cleared his throat and glanced over at Charles. Charles nodded.

"Mind control," Stephen said.

Emily laid the folder back on the desk and rubbed her eyes. "No, that can't be right. Stilton said that Derrick was the one who controlled  _him_."

Charles's eyes appeared morose now as he spoke. "Derrick had enhanced speed and strength. Not to the extent as a few of my… instructors at my school, but enough to have given Derrick the option of using his gifts for humanity after he graduated. Sadly, he doesn't have that option now."

Emily gazed around the study, her mind trying to grip the facts surrounding her. As a defense attorney, she'd rested her case on the assumption that Brian and Stilton Lawrence had told her the truth about Derrick. Yes, Stilton's story wasn't rock solid, but she'd believed him when he'd said he was frightened of Derrick and of those with super powers. And now that kernel of truth had become tainted. She wasn't sure what to believe.

It was possible Charles was lying, that he had created Stilton's acceptance letter into his "school for gifted youngsters." It certainly wouldn't have been hard for him to do so. And it would further his cause of keeping inhumans out of the spotlight of a court case so that HR 8275 couldn't become law.

Emily locked eyes with the professor. "Tell me about HR 8275."

She thought he'd be flustered by the abrupt change of topic, at the very least. But instead, Charles Xavier smiled. "It's a bill being sponsored by a congressman named Robert Kelly. And he's a man I very much hope does not become a senator. This bill is in committee right now. I'm hoping it dies there. It would force anyone born with enhanced abilities to register their powers. Which would open up the possibility of discrimination at best, or complete annihilation at worst. A dear friend of mine survived the Holocaust, and if this becomes a law..." His words trailed off.

"But you have to admit some inhumans  _are_  dangerous," Emily countered. "We make citizens register for guns, for a license to drive, to hunt. And some of you  _are_  weapons. Powerful weapons.  _Sentient_  weapons."

Stephen's gaze pierced her. "And what do you think would happen if a sentient weapon felt threatened?"

"Is that what you're afraid of?" Emily asked. "That if some inhumans had to register, then they'd attack?"

"It's a possibility," Charles answered.

Emily shook her head. "Look, I'm not a politician. I can see both sides of this. I just want to do what's right by my client. I don't want to get involved in your inhuman debate…"

"You're already involved," Stephen said. "That's why you're here. That's why Charles wanted to talk with you, why he wanted you to see this folder."

Emily's thoughts flew in a million directions at once, trying to find an advantage. "Would you mind if I kept this? Or maybe made a copy for my files?"

Again, Stephen and Charles exchanged a look. Emily wondered if Charles was communicating with him telepathically. Maybe they normally exchanged thoughts this way. It suddenly dawned on her why Stephen had pulled away from her last night, why he had suddenly been intent on listening to something only he could hear when he was holding her against him. The realization made Emily shiver, despite the heat inside the study.

"No, that's not possible," Charles finally replied. "I don't want this getting out. But I trust you, Emily. And I will give you as much time as you need to read what is inside this folder. I want you to make an informed decision. But reading is all I'd like you to do, if you don't mind."

Emily nodded. The professor was nothing if not polite. He was trusting her with this, and she wasn't about to betray that trust. At the same time, she was going to do her best to cram every ounce of information from this folder into her brain for as much time as they gave her to do it.

Charles turned to Stephen. "If you could take me back to the mansion now, I would be grateful. I'm afraid I've been gone too long already."

Stephen waved his hands and opened another portal, only this time to an enormous office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of rolling hills and trees on the other side.

Charles held out his hand for Emily to shake. "It was nice to meet you. I'll leave the folder with Stephen, and he can return it to me later tonight."

The two men stepped through the portal, and Emily turned her attention back to the folder, determined to memorize as much as she could. She didn't even notice when the portal shut behind them, leaving her alone inside the Sanctum's study.

The minutes flew by, and what Emily read made her uneasy. Stilton Lawrence was a mutant, at least according to these files. And there were many more teenagers like him. Charles estimated Stilton's abilities had appeared only recently, at the age of fifteen, and that his mind control came in bursts. It was something Stilton couldn't control or use to his advantage, at least not yet. It was that "not yet" part that chilled Emily.

Stilton's admission letter was unremarkable, except for an appendix section specifically addressed to the Lawrence family. It was a reassurance that finishing Stilton's education at Charles Xavier's school would allow their son "to control his gifts." His parents had not just declined; they had written an incensed letter back, telling Charles exactly where he could shove his good intentions.

Emily put down the folder and plunked herself on the chair behind the desk. According to the clock on her phone, she'd been reading for the better part of an hour. Still no sign of Stephen returning.

One of the desk drawers next to her was pulled out part-way. Emily reached to close it, then stopped. What did sorcerers keep inside their desks anyway? Magic quills and parchment? She grinned and opened up the large drawer.

Inside was a mess of blank paper and ballpoint pens. Emily sighed in disappointment. She opened another drawer, and was further disillusioned. This one had nothing in it at all.

The drawer directly under the desk was the only one that wouldn't open. It didn't feel locked, just… stuck somehow. She positioned her fingers on the lip of the drawer. She about to give up on the tedium of her scavenger hunt to go back to reading when the drawer slowly opened of its own accord.

Inside was a manila folder similar to the one she had in front of her. She pulled out the folder, shaking her head. Considering the minutiae of the items in the desk, this second folder probably contained old electrical bills.

But it didn't. Inside were the same photos and documents that Charles had in his folder, the one sitting right in front of her.

"What the….?" Emily flipped through the second folder from Stephen's desk. Hadn't Charles specifically asked her not to make copies? She thought Charles didn't want the documents on Stilton Lawrence getting out, and yet here was a second set.

As Emily turned the pages, anxiety slowly poured into her veins. There was much more information inside Stephen's copy than the one Charles had given her. There were also random notes in the margins. One paragraph in chicken-scratch on the pages about Stilton's abilities read: "Power being pulled from another dimension could explain lack of control. Must test theory."

Emily frowned. She was  _sure_  those notes about power from another dimension weren't in Charles's folder. She opened up the original document on Stilton and compared the two. Sure enough, the messy cursive in the margin wasn't there.

She continued skimming through the files. Nestled between the various documents and photos on Stilton and Xavier's school was another page Charles didn't have in his folder: It was a list of names in alphabetical order, all of them with addresses in the boroughs of New York City. The title of this page read: "Possible human carriers for mutant gene."

Emily's name was on that list.


	10. Chapter 10

Stephen followed Charles into his office inside X-Mansion and closed the portal behind him. The professor angled his chair past the standing plants next to his desk to gaze out of the window. The fading sunlight slipped behind the tall oaks outlining his estate, the rays taking refuge in the hiding places of lush leaves and thick branches. Ever since Stephen had met Charles Xavier, there had been a connection between the two. They were of like minds, fellow protectors of humanity, using their powers and intellect in pursuit of a greater good. Stephen knew from experience whenever something was on the professor's mind, when his friend needed time to put all of his postulations into words, and this was one of those times. So Stephen waited in silence and tried to appreciate the peaceful view before him.

Stephen wasn't a fan of leaving Emily alone inside the Sanctum, especially after her admission last night that she had shown herself around. Anyone without training in the mystic arts who would give themselves a solitary tour of the Sanctum was someone who could get hurt if the building and relics chose to retaliate. And since Wong was in Hong Kong at the moment, no sorcerers would be around to help her if anything happened. That final thought made Stephen break his silence. "You mentioned earlier that you wanted to speak to me after meeting Emily?"

"Yes." Charles swiveled his chair around to face Stephen. "I hope you understand why I wanted to give her privacy to read through the files on Stilton Lawrence. That measure of trust could go a long way in building loyalty over the long-term."

Stephen nodded.

"But you don't approve," Charles said. It wasn't a question.

"Emily is the same woman who went out of her way to collect information about the Sanctum and the members of the Illuminati, not once but twice. The same woman who was able to somehow break through your mental suggestions the night of the Illuminati meeting."

Charles nodded. "I've been wondering about her abilities for the last two days. Emily is on a short list of humans throughout New York that carry an inactive mutant gene."

"I saw her name on your list."

"The mutant gene is dormant in her DNA, a part of her even if she doesn't realize it's there. It makes you wonder what she's fully capable of." The professor was silent for a long moment. "Do you trust her?"

Stephen pondered the question for a moment. "Yes, but I also think it's good to be wary."

"This is why you and I work so well together. You're cynicism is a necessity for balancing my optimism, especially in these days." He angled himself to catch the final rays from the sunset before it blinked from sight. "I hope the time we are investing in her will create a favorable outcome. Putting mutants on trial would be disastrous for building bridges."

"This country is more interested in erecting walls than building bridges at the moment. Or didn't you get the memo?"

Charles chuckled. "I must have missed it." He moved to sit behind his desk. "Do you think we can count on Emily's discretion in keeping mutations out of her defense?"

"I think she'll do whatever she feels is in the best interest of her client."

Charles sighed. "Then let's just hope she's cautious, especially in her dealings with the father. I had no idea you knew him..."

"He's a man who will accept nothing less than winning, whether it's his son's lawsuit or getting support for that damn bill." Stephen moved to join Charles at his desk. "But I never thought Brian was capable of arranging for someone's murder."

"It's possible he didn't. I haven't had any luck trying to penetrate the mind of the man who tried to kill Emily."

"Doesn't that man have a name?"

"I'm sure he does, but I can't find it. It's like it's been erased from his consciousness."

Stephen was stunned into silence by that admission. There wasn't a mind on this earth that Charles Xavier couldn't enter, human or inhuman.

"Where is he?"

"He's inside a reinforced cell downstairs and doesn't seem to be interested in doing anything besides attacking whoever comes near him."

"I'd like to see him."

Charles smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Charles wheeled himself out of his office and down the hallway to the discreet elevator hidden inside the wood paneling. Stephen followed at a respectful distance. Conjuring a portal to the basement would've been much easier but Charles took pleasure in moving from one place to another in the traditional ways. Stephen didn't agree, but he respected it.

The mansion was still. He didn't see any instructors like Scott Summers or Hank McCoy hanging around, but then it was the summer. And a Friday evening. Most, if not all, of the X-Men were no doubt taking advantage of the hiatus in their schedules, at least until they were needed.

Charles and Stephen took the elevator down to the second level of the mansion's basement. The door to Celebro waited on one side, the medical facilities rested on the other. Unlike the warmth of the wood paneling upstairs, the basement levels were all sterile, polished glass and shiny metal. Charles led Stephen down a secondary corridor and pressed on a frosted wall. An invisible door opened.

Stephen wasn't sure what to expect when he entered the containment room. Madness, possibly. Anger, certainly.

The man didn't disappoint. As soon as Stephen entered, fire sprouted back into the man's clinched fists. He yelled and lashed out with flames at the clear walls of his holding cell. The fire dissolved as soon as it hit.

"Is he insane?" Stephen walked around the man's square cell, his senses on alert for anything mystical in nature. "What is he trying to accomplish?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Last night his mind repeated his desire to kill Emily Graham, but now?" Charles moved his chair slightly forward. "Now there is only silence."

Stephen whispered a spell from the Book of Vishanti, daring anything mystic in nature to appear, assuming it was there.

The man screamed.

"There's something inside him," Stephen said. "Why didn't I sense it before?"

Stephen closed his eyes. A meditative state came almost instantly. There was a dark aura surrounding the man. It was brief, only a flicker, but he had seen it. As his mind opened to all of the possible realities, so did his third eye. "He's being controlled, but whatever it is isn't coming from inside his own mind. It's like his memories, the essence of who he is, are being... blocked somehow."

"Perhaps this is why I wasn't able to read him," Charles murmured.

The man screeched and threw more fire at the walls, over and over again. Stephen heard the flames hit, but didn't open his eyes. The thing controlling this man was hungry. He could feel its famishment, but there was nothing for it to feed on here. Yet it had been calm and confident at a party where the patrons had been running for their lives…

Stephen opened his eyes and returned. "It's a fear lord. They dwell in the fear dimension, and whenever they find their way into our reality, their goal is to feed off of terror and use it as a foothold to domination."

"A fear lord?" Charles appeared confused for one of the first time since Stephen had met him. "Like a demon?"

"Demons are minions. Fear lords are organized, powerful, and don't act without a specific agenda."

"Much like our Illuminati."

Stephen wasn't brave enough to make that comparison, but Charles wasn't wrong. He managed a cynical smile. "If our members gained purpose by feeding off of chaos and terror, than yes. Just like the Illuminati."

Stephen strolled around the cage. The man within stood watching him, a sick smirk on his face.

"Can you exorcise him?" Charles asked.

"It's not that simple. The origins of fear lords aren't known, and there would be no safe dimension to send him to."

"You could track him, perhaps. See where he goes?"

"They can also jump through dimension after dimension sending me on a wild goose chase for days, assuming I caught him at all. In the meantime, any number of other lords could be plotting something back in this reality that I'd have no way of stopping."

Charles steepled his fingers under his chin, considering their options.

"The details sorcerers have about fear lords are few. We don't even have names for most of them. But they never act without a plan. If their agenda is here on Earth, then there's more going on here than this man's powers being used as a simple mercenary."

Charles wheeled himself closer to the cell. A bolt of fire landed against the containment for his trouble. "Why would an entity outside of our reality go to all this effort for one human woman?"

"I'd be surprised if their plans center around Emily," Stephen replied. "Even if this one was meant to kill her, fear lords have greater agendas. The only thing they could be using her for is her connection to the Lawrence case. Maybe they feel causing fear about inhumans would create a dimensional opening." Stephen gifted Charles with a weary smile. "But since you were able to erase everyone's memory of the party last night, it doesn't matter."

Charles got suddenly quiet. His head lowered, and his eyes became downcast. "I'm afraid I wasn't able to change the memories of everyone at that party, Stephen. I'm so sorry. The news of the Lawrence trial has been on the news outlets all morning. An attorney named Linda Chao has been giving interviews from her office all day about inhumans, how they're a threat to humanity without proper safeguards in place. Tony Stark weighed in, of course..."

Stephen cursed. If Stark were next to him right now, he'd happily hand him over to this fear lord.

"Thousands have responded on social media," Charles continued. "It's possible this trial could be a catalyst for something much bigger than anything even I had anticipated."

Stephen felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. All this time he'd been focused on Brian Lawrence, on human cupidity and selfish objectives. Stephen hadn't even considered there was anything larger at stake. And he had left Emily alone inside the Sanctum, where anything could find her. Especially a determined fear lord. "I need to go. Now."

Charles bid him farewell, but Stephen barely heard him. He conjured a portal to the Sanctum's relic room where the most harm could be done if a fear lord broke through his spells. He didn't see Emily anywhere. Was she still in the library annex that served as his study after all this time?

"Emily?" He ran down the stairs, taking two at a time. "Are you still here?"

He turned the corner to his private study, but Emily was gone. On top of his desk were two identical manila folders.

"No…" Stephen darted for his desk and opened the first folder. It was the one Charles had loaned her. No surprise there. All of Charles's papers looked intact. None seemed to be missing. That was good.

Then he opened the second folder. This was the one he'd recreated with the Eye two nights ago, the one whose contents he had been sifting through to piece together the puzzle that was Emily and her court case. Stephen looked down to see the top drawer was open, the magic seal broken.

It wasn't possible.

There were personal notes he'd written inside this folder, mostly on the pages in the back about Derrick and how various mutations can overlap with dimensional threats. If Emily had seen even a part of that…

Stephen opened the Mirror Dimension and stepped inside. He whispered an incantation and the Eye of Agamotto appeared around his neck. Closing his eyes, Stephen concentrated his energy over the Eye and slowly pulled his hands apart to open the Time Gem.

Using the Eye, he rewound time. Here in the Mirror Dimension the act would keep the rest of the world safe while he tried to figure out what had happened.

The folders closed themselves on his desk, sitting in wait for Emily to return and reopen them. From behind Stephen, the fading sunlight began to re-filter into the study, lightening the room. After a few minutes of nothing happening inside the intimate space, Emily appeared. She walked backwards to sit at his desk.

It was hard for Stephen to believe, or even to watch, what occurred right in front of him. Emily peeled open his folder, going backwards as she scanned both of them. She seemed to be comparing the two. Then she closed Stephen folder. She reopened the enchanted top drawer and slipped the folder back inside before checking out the other desk drawers in what appeared to be simple curiosity.

So this is where it had started. Stephen stopped the time loop. Very slowly, he moved time forward.

Emily opened one drawer, then another, checking to see what was inside each one. Finally she rested her hands on the top drawer, the one he had sealed with magic. She jerked it, and it remained closed. She frowned. Her fingers remained on the lip of the drawer. She sat there, as if considering what to do next. And then the drawer opened on its own.

Stephen had to rewind time and repeat the event just to convince himself of what he'd just seen. But there was no doubt. The drawer had just… opened for her.

He steeled himself as he allowed time to progress. "What did you see Emily?" he whispered. "What made you leave all of this information you so desperately wanted to know behind?"

Emily opened his file, frowned, and compared it to the folder Charles had left her. She looked through the files on Stilton. She read Stephen's notes in the margin about his theory on Stilton's powers coming from an inter-dimensional source. Stephen cursed under his breath but allowed time to play out.

Stephen was afraid Emily had found Derrick's personal information, but she never got that far. She reached the page with the list of possible New York carriers for the dormant mutant gene. After reading that list, she had slammed the folder shut.

So that's what had made her run. She had seen her name.

He watched her hurry out of his study.

Stephen used the Eye to fast-forward to the present and closed the gem. Reaching through the pocket dimension, he placed the Eye gently back into its protected safeguard. The pocket dimension snapped shut, sealing the Time Gem inside. Two steps later, Stephen was out of the Mirror Dimension and back inside the real world.

He headed downstairs and outside of the Sanctum. Betrayal and sympathy flowed through him in equal measure. She was guilty of curiosity. That much was certain. But he had seen how his magicked drawer had simply opened for her, could tell by the shock on her features she hadn't expected to find that second folder. The fact that angered him the most, however, was that it was his fault a second copy existed in the first place. What did Mordo used to say? 'The bill always comes due.' Well, Stephen was paying it now.

Emily had probably gone back home to a safe space, either to type out everything she had read, or maybe to grieve, assuming she believed what she'd discovered about her genetics. He calculated she was only fifteen or twenty minutes ahead of him, even accounting for the time he had spent using the Eye. If he wanted to, he could simply appear inside her apartment again, to talk about what she'd seen, but he needed time to figure out how to approach her.

Stephen began walking toward her address, his mind preoccupied with Emily and with the knowledge that fear lords could be trying to dominate Manhattan. Across the street, two men stood side-by-side watching him. One wore long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. His skin was pale, almost translucent, like an albino. He wore thick sunglasses and a Yankee cap. The second man had dark hair and wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt with a worn Mets ball cap cupped over his forehead. Both men stared at him.

It took Stephen a few seconds to figure out why these men seemed off to his intuition, and then he realized what it was: the rival teams' ball caps. Had the men been talking in a bar, Stephen wouldn't have batted an eye, but combined with their obsessive staring, the wrongness of it poured from them like cheap beer at Citi Field. He whispered an incantation to protect both the Sanctum and himself.

Stephen moved down Bleeker Street, toward Emily's apartment on the East Side, curious to see what the men did.

The men followed.

Stephen stopped walking.

The men stopped walking.

Stephen glared at the men, and the men glared right back.

"The hell with this." Stephen dodged into a nearby alleyway, away from the pedestrian traffic. He waved his hands and opened two identical portals under the men. He could hear the beginnings of their cries before it swallowed them up…

… and reopened to dump them right in front of Stephen.

The men landed in a heap of curses and entangled limbs. The darker of the two looked up. When he saw Stephen, he scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his Mets cap now covered in grit from the pavement.

Stephen pushed the man against the bricks. "Why are you following me?"

Mets Cap punched him in the face.

Stephen staggered back, and the man scurried away, leaving his albino friend on the ground.

Stephen wiped the blood from his nose and knelt down to study the "friend" Mets Cap had left behind. The Yankees cap and sunglasses had fallen off thanks to the abrupt landing. The albino man squinted up at Stephen, using his forearm as a shield against the brightness of the sun.

"Why are you following me?" Stephen asked.

The man started laughing.

Stephen grabbed the man by his shirt. "You think this is funny?"

"You can't stop it now."

"Stop what?"

The man didn't answer. He just grinned. And vanished.

Stephen rose to his feet, searching around for any residue of dimensional magic that could explain his disappearance, but there was nothing. The albino hadn't been a fear lord then. Was he a teleporter?

Stephen strolled out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk. He scanned for the albino, but he was nowhere in sight. The man in the Mets cap was also gone. The sidewalks were clear of anyone save the normal Friday night crowds he was used to seeing on Bleecker Street.

He had no clue if these men were related to the fear lords. Whatever the men had been plotting, it apparently had been done. But he wasn't about to waste any more time. He found an empty storefront, an abandoned laundromat, and left the sidewalk to stand in its doorway. Leaning against the sides of the doorway, Stephen concentrated on the inside of Emily's apartment, no longer caring if she saw his appearance as an intrusion.

And went nowhere. He had reappeared back in front of the empty laundromat door.

He frowned. Was he too far away from the Sanctum to use dimensional energy for a direct trip? He tried to appear inside Emily's apartment again.

It didn't work. He was still here.

In the distance, the wail of fire truck and ambulance sirens filled the air. It was coming from the East Village.

Stephen raced down the sidewalk toward Emily's building. He generated a portal as he ran, no longer caring to conceal his magic. He darted through.

Emergency vehicles and chaos surrounded Emily's building. People gathering on the sidewalks pointed up to where her apartment should have been on the corner of the tenth floor. Only her apartment wasn't there.

Dread chilled Stephen as he reached for her aura, but all traces of her were gone. Emily was dead.


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as Emily had seen her name on Charles Xavier's list of humans carrying some dormant mutant gene, she'd refused to believe it. How easy would it have been for him to create a random list of New Yorkers carrying the gene and type her name on said list? Grouping Emily with inhumans would be an excellent way for this professor to change her mind about her defense tactics, to manipulate her emotions in order to bend her to their side. But Emily didn't bend easily.

She did, however, believe what she had read about her DNA. Not because she'd noticed any innate biological difference or odd disparity over the years but because that list of carriers had been inside Stephen's locked drawer. And she knew Stephen wouldn't go to the trouble of creating a dubious list and locking it away. Not him. He would challenge her openly at every turn, but he would never lie to her. And that changed everything.

So Emily had left the matching folders on Stephen's desk and trudged out of 177A Bleecker Street. She barely remembered hailing a cab. Or greeting her doorman. Or making her way back inside her apartment. But once the door shut behind her, she gave herself the freedom to cry, to get all of the bottled up frustration and grief of the last few days out of her system. Then, she forced herself to get down to business.

There had been important information inside Charles's documents, information she could use to help her client. Emily pulled out her laptop and sat on her bed. She was just about to add what she'd read to her files when she saw one of Stephen's portals open up inside her living room.

Stephen stepped out. He was back in his sorcerer attire, she noticed. The red cloak was back as well. Around his neck, an enormous glowing emerald dangled from a bronze chain. It looked like a bright green eye staring right at her. Around Stephen's wrists were identical glowing bracelets in geometric patterns. The creepy green gem and bracelets were new, as was the dried blood caked around Stephen's nose.

Emily rose to her feet with a sigh and shut her laptop. "Are you all right? What are you doing here?"

He ignored her, his eyes trailing around her studio apartment like a safety inspector looking for violations.

She frowned. "You're bleeding. Did you get into a fight or something?"

He darted past her, his red sorcerer's cloak fluttering behind him. His eyes skimmed the walls of her apartment like he was searching for something.

Emily's attitude shifted from concern to irritation. "Is there something I can help you find?"

He didn't answer. He hurried instead to the nearest corner, then stood completely still, as if his proximity to that part of her apartment might make the walls move of their own volition.

Emily sighed. "Look, I didn't remove anything from your magic house. And I promise I didn't take pictures."

Stephen brushed past her.

She raised her voice. " _Or_ make copies of Charles Xavier's folder the way you obviously did."

That got Stephen's attention. His eyes locked on her.

She waited for his reply.

But the reply never came. Instead Stephen turned his attention back to the walls of her apartment. "I know you're here," he muttered angrily. "Where the hell are you?"

She lifted an eyebrow. Had Stephen lost his mind? "I'm  _right here._ " She shook her head. "Listen if you're upset about my finding your folder, I'm sorry."

But Stephen wasn't listening. He had slipped into her closet.

"Hey!" She marched after him. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

He came back out and finally stood in front of her. "I pulled you out of the time stream." He stopped. His eyes locked on the corner of her room where her bed met an exterior wall. "To find the second fear lord targeting you."

"The second…  _what?"_

Something flickered in that corner. Stephen must have seen it, too. He whipped toward it, those intricate golden shields bursting from his fists. But then the flickering stopped.

"I'm too late." Stephen whispered.

"What do you mean you're too late?"

Stephen pivoted. He came straight for her.

Emily stepped back. "What are you doing…?"

Before she could finish her question, Stephen's shields grew. They burst forth in thick geometric patterns of diamonds, triangles, and squares, overlapping in complexity. It only took a second for the flawless patterns to lace together. The shields grew until they covered both of them, encasing them inside a giant sphere.

"We're out of time," Stephen said. "And I can't go back, not without risking unstable fluctuations in our timeline." His eyes met hers. There was something like pity behind it. "This is going to hurt."

Emily never got the chance to ask what he was talking about. The world exploded around her.

She was too frightened to even scream as the blast hit. It bounced off of Stephen's shields. Fragments of glass and concrete barreled toward them. Fear seized her.

"Look at me, Emily. Don't worry about what's going on around us. We're safe."

She tried to stay focused on Stephen as the air thickened with dust and debris. His eyes were like an anchor inside the chaos, a point of reference for her to hold on to as her apartment fell down around her. But while the shields kept them safe, some of the energy from the explosion pulsated through. She closed her eyes against the tremors of pain.

Emily was close enough to the emerald around Stephen's neck that whatever power emulating from it did a number on her skin. The gem pulsed with energy. There was something dangerous about that emerald. She instinctively twisted her face to get as far away from it as she could, but she didn't dare move her body. If she stepped out of the protection of Stephen's shields she had no doubt she would die.

From behind her eyelids, a bright light filtered through. She opened her eyes. Her apartment was completely gone. They were floating out in the open and in mid-air ten floors above the New York streets. Emily sucked in her breaths in strangled gasps. She'd never been a fan of heights.

The green gem around Stephen's neck slowly closed.

"Hold on to me," Stephen said.

He didn't have to tell her twice. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed her eyes shut.

They fell straight down.

Emily moaned in fear, expecting them to slam into the ceiling of the apartment below them, but instead they started to float. She opened her eyes again. Stephen's shields were gone, and a portal had appeared underneath them. The cloak around Stephen's neck glided them through. They landed inside the top level of the Sanctum, next to the circular window with the elaborate pattern etched overtop of the glass. The cloak around Stephen's neck went still as they landed on the marble floor.

Emily let go of Stephen and stumbled back. "What the hell just happened?"

"A fear lord just vaporized your apartment."

"I'm sorry?"

"A fear lord materialized inside your apartment. I reversed time with this…" Stephen lifted the closed bronze medallion around his neck. "And created a Mandalas shield to protect us when he vaporized your home. I apologize that I couldn't stop that from happening by the way. You're welcome to stay here until you can find a new place…"

"Wait, did you just say you  _reversed time_? To stop a  _fear lord?_ " Disbelief battled against what she'd just experienced. She believed what he said about the shields. A tangible object like two shields was an easy thing to see, to believe. But some other-worldly being blowing up her apartment or reversing time…?

Stephen placed his hands an inch from the medallion resting on his chest. He steepled his fingers to form some sort of intricate diamond, and then gradually eased his hands together before stretching them apart. The bronze eye-like shape in its center opened. The green stone inside thrummed with power.

"This is the Time Gem, entrusted to the Sorcerer Supreme for safe-keeping. This allowed me to reverse time. I couldn't bind the fear lord, but stopping your death was more important."

She stumbled back. "Stopping my  _death_?"

He nodded. "You died, Emily."

A tiny laugh escaped her throat. "I'm sorry, but I think I'd remember if I had  _died_ , for God's sake…"

"That future didn't happen. I used the gem to save your life."

His words were awash with kindness, but her mind refused to process them. She felt mentally numb. "But… I don't understand. If you could turn back time to save my life, couldn't you just use that gem again and go back to bind that invisible fear bastard, whatever the hell he was?"

"Turning back time again and again creates unstable dimensions, holes in space and time. Theoretically, I could have gone back to create a few more minutes to bind the fear lord, but it could have had disastrous consequences." Stephen steepled his fingers again and closed the glowing green gem around his neck. "And you're being alive was all that mattered."

Tears of gratitude filled her eyes. He'd come back for her, to save her. She had been drawn to him since that night back in her apartment when he'd soothed her tears. But she had no idea he felt the same. She smiled and reached out to caress his cheek.

Stephen stepped back as if she had suddenly contracted some deadly disease. "Oh. No, no... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Her hand fell back to her side.

"I mean, I care about you. I do. But I didn't save you because of that…"

Emily understood perfectly. He cared about her in the same way she cared about whether or not a frightened animal was accidentally hit by a speeding car. She was an innocent bystander in a turn of events she didn't understand and couldn't control. And that was where Stephen's fascination with her ended. She didn't think she could take any more direct honesty from him. Her emotions were unstable enough as it was. Her home gone, her feelings rejected, She closed off her heart to recover from the emotional blow he'd just delivered, to allow her brain to take in his explanation.

Stephen seemed to sense the sudden change. He looked away from her to focus on the iron seal etched on that weird window. "Remember that night at the party when I told you I had a cauldron?"

She nodded, dazed, still trying to process his rejection.

"Its full name is the Cauldron of the Cosmos, and it can show me any point in time: the future, the present, the past… After the men distracting me disappeared, I ran to your building but your apartment was gone. I spent some time helping those injured by the falling shrapnel and asking questions of anyone who was willing to talk. I found out you were the only casualty. Which made me wonder why. I had just assumed it was a random attack by the fear lords to create terror."

"And I was dead this whole time…?" Her voice shook.

He didn't seem to hear her question, or the tremors in her voice. "So, I came back to the Sanctum and looked inside the cauldron. And I discovered why you were attacked. You're being alive is important, Emily. Very important."

" _Why?_  Why is my being alive so damn important?"

Seconds stretched between them. When Stephen finally answered, the conflict in his eyes matched the brokenness in his voice. "A little knowledge can be a deadly thing. I can't tell you because I can't have you make a decision that could alter your future."

"But it's  _my_  future!"

"I'm sorry, Emily."

He sounded like he meant it, but it still hurt. She took a deep breath. Another. She'd almost wept once in front of him once. Never again. "Just to be sure I understand you…" Another breath. "You said whatever my future holds it has nothing to do with you personally, is that correct?"

He hesitated a beat too long. "That's right."

He wasn't telling her the whole truth, and after what she'd just experienced, she wasn't having it. "But you used that time gem and rewound time to save me. Is  _that_  part correct?"

"Yes, but…"

Emily cut him off. "I know, I know... you didn't save my life out of some ridiculous, unnecessary attachment. You don't have to repeat that part. But I'm grateful that you  _did_  save me all the same, even if you only did it for whatever role I have yet to play."

His expression was blank. Unreadable. And seeing it almost broke her.

But she smiled through her tears. "Well, at least the universe needs me."

"Emily…" His voice was gentle as he reached for her.

"Don't." She yanked away. "Just… don't. I'd like to be alone now. Please."

He nodded, dropping his hand. "Okay. There's one more thing though…"

She made eye contact with him, but didn't trust herself to answer without breaking down completely.

"The fear lords will try to kill you again. I'm sure of it. The safest place for you to be is here inside the Sanctum. So please don't leave. Wong will be back soon if you'd rather be away from me. You can go anywhere you'd like, just be careful."

"Fine." Her reply was a dagger.

"But whatever you do, do  _not_  go near the cellar."

And with those final words, he left her alone with her pain.


	12. Chapter 12

Emily had no recollection of her supposed death, no life raft of proof to cling to in an ocean of uncertainty. All she knew was the last few days had been the most chaotic of her life. And now she had no home, no possessions. She didn't even have her phone or laptop to do any work on the Lawrence case. So she walked the halls of the Sanctum, feeling unwelcome in every one, and tried to think of something proactive she could do while she figured out next steps.

Eventually, her wanderings led her to the same small study she'd been inside just an hour prior. No fire burned in the stone fireplace now. The room felt like a hollow shell of what it had been. The folders she'd left atop of Stephen's desk were gone. He must have found them, or someone had. Maybe he'd just returned everything to Charles Xavier, or locked them away where Emily couldn't read them.

She strolled to the drawers. All of them were sealed shut. When she placed a hand on the one that had been disappointedly empty earlier, a gentle electric shock pierced her fingertips. She flinched and sucked the tender flesh.

"This is Stephen's private study,"

Emily jumped a mile. She glanced up guiltily to discover Wong standing outside the threshold. His arms lay folded across his chest like a parent ready to scold a disobedient child.

She swallowed hard, nodded. "I know. I was in here earlier looking at a folder Charles Xavier left for me. But as I was going through, I found a second folder in here." She pointed to the top drawer.

"You opened that drawer?" Wong looked incredulous. He stalked in and examined Stephen's desk. "There are several complex spells over the locks. Even I might not be able to open them."

"Can you try?"

Wong studied her for a long moment, then nodded. He opened his palms over the desk. His wrists twisted, and a river of golden light flowed in a steady stream inside the locked drawer.

But his spell didn't work. Wong jumped back in pain, shaking his wrists. "Counter-spell," he said. "To prevent a sorcerer from getting inside."

"I got a shock, too," Emily said. "So don't feel bad."

"But you said you opened this drawer earlier today?"

She nodded.

"Show me."

Emily tried to touch the drawer again and got another shock, this one much stronger. She jerked her hand back, glaring at the desk. She wasn't about to give up. Determined, she inched her hand closer but not close enough to touch the enchanted wood. Her entrance into this desk was no longer an exercise to gain access to one stupid drawer. It had become an extension of Stephen shutting her out. She channeled her anger...

And the drawer opened.

Wong touched it, as if to prove to himself it was truly open.

"Earlier today when I was reading through some files, this drawer was locked, and then it wasn't." Emily explained. "I wasn't trying to break into it."

"How did you break the spell?" Wong's voice was filled with stunned awe.

"I don't know. Maybe I just don't know my own strength?" She tried to laugh at her own joke, but the sound was hollow.

"Get back."

Emily moved away from the desk. Wong opened his palms again, and golden light flew from his fingertips and into the desk. The drawer closed and resealed.

"I did my best to recreate his spell," Wong said. "But he'll want to know what happened."

"Will you tell him?"

He smiled at her. "That depends on whether or not he cleans the kitchen."

Emily grinned.

"Speaking of which, do you need anything? Stephen mentioned you might be staying…"

"Thank you for asking. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around it. I don't exactly have a home to go back to now." She looked away, melancholy forming a layer over her heart. "It's kind of you both to let me live here for a while."

"We have plenty of room. I'm actually surprised Stephen isn't showing you around. Did something happen between you two?"

Wong said those words as if they were a couple or something. She balked. "I just…" She sighed. "Forget it. I'm not sure I could put it into words if I tried."

"He cares for you, you know," Wong said quietly.

A bitter laugh escaped. "I seriously doubt that."

"He told me about using the Time Gem. He wouldn't have risked a dimensional tear to save you if he didn't care."

"Didn't you hear?" Her tone was razor sharp. "I'm supposed to be alive because it's  _'very important.'_  It has nothing to do with how he feels."

"Stephen has learned to separate his role as Sorcerer Supreme from his feelings. That doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Never assume he doesn't feel."

"Ahem." The sound of a man clearing his throat made the pair snap their heads to the doorway. Stephen waited there, in an almost identical posture to the one Wong had assumed only minutes before. Emily felt her cheeks flush. She wondered how much Stephen had heard.

Stephen studied the pair. "Is it possible to have just  _one thing_  in this house that's private?"

He snapped his fingers, and his desk disappeared. Emily stepped backwards in shock and almost crashed into a black globe. She glanced up at Stephen, expecting to see anger, or chastisement for her and Wong. Instead, his face held grimness of another sort.

"Emily, can you come with me?" Stephen said. "There's something you need to see."

Emily shot a questioning look at Wong. He shrugged.

Stephen left, and she and Wong followed him down the hall. At the end of the hall, next to three giant windows with varying views of Earth's biomes that Emily had gaped over earlier, was a large bedroom. Stephen led the way inside. The room had thick crimson curtains, similar to the decor throughout the Sanctum. A bed stood against the wall, along with even more bookshelves. It wasn't until Emily saw the large cauldron in its center that she realized this must be Stephen's room.

A laptop was open on an antique desk. Stephen pointed to the screen. It was a live stream of a CNN special report. Linda Chao was on the right side of the screen. A reporter was on the left.

Stephen clicked on the sound and stepped back.

The CNN reporter was in mid-sentence "…. you're seeing an influx of clients in your firm coming to you for help against inhuman threats?"

Linda nodded. "Yes, that is true. As I mentioned before, as inhumans decide to threaten humans out in the open with their powers, more and more humans are going to need to know their rights. Lawyers like me will be leading the war against inhumans."

"Ms. Chao, thank you for your time."

She smirked. "Thank you."

The reporter was full-screen now. "Again, that was Linda Chao of the Chao and Benowitz law firm in downtown Manhattan, telling us her own personal story and her take on the inhuman threat. We're going back to the newsroom now with breaking news on the story. Anderson?"

Anderson Cooper appeared. The poor man looked worn-out. "We've has just learned that as of this afternoon a bill called HR 8275, now known as The Superhuman Registration Act, has been streamlined through congressional committee. A draft has already been sent to the Rules committee. This bill is expected to pass overwhelmingly once its presented in the House. After the attack on the Upper West Side in New York yesterday and the one in Washington just this morning, congressmen and women have reported a flood of emails and phone calls demanding action..."

Emily couldn't believe what she was hearing. "There was an attack in Washington?"

Stephen nodded. "Nothing major or inter-dimensional in nature. Apparently, there was an assassination attempt on Congressman Kelly by an inhuman. It was taken care of by a group of superheroes from outside of New York. The very inhumans Kelly wants to register just saved his life." His words were so sharp they could cut glass.

Emily turned back to CNN where Robert Kelly, the congressman from Massachusetts, had appeared onscreen. He talked about how quickly the bill had gone through committee, about its importance to be passed into law as soon as possible.

"Senator Edwards is stepping down in Massachusetts." Wong interrupted over the coverage. "Word is Kelly is going to be elected to the Senate easily in November."

Concern was written all over Stephen's face. He turned to reply to Wong, but Emily only half listened to his words. Her mind whirled with the possibilities of the registration act for people like Stephen, and for her own case. She walked out of Stephen's bedroom and down the hall to gather her thoughts. The conspiratorial whispers of Stephen and Wong drifted in her wake.

It was night now, and the Sanctum was almost completely dark. The eerie shadows hovering over the house matched Emily's mood. Every few feet, a mounted candle would light Emily's path back toward the main staircase, and she used the light to find her way down toward the foyer. Some fresh air would do her a world of good.

She should be grateful to Linda, happy even. Linda's interview could only help gain sympathy for Stilton in the jury once his trial began. And yet it was unlike her senior colleague to do something so public, so bold, especially without an office-wide conference, two private meetings, and a back-up failsafe in case something went wrong. This CNN interview wasn't Linda's style at all.

Emily had just passed the foyer's center when a small cry echoed from a nearby corridor.

She paused to listen. The cry had sounded like a child's voice.

But there was only silence.

Emily shook her head. She must have imagined it. She started for the front door.

"Help me…"

It  _was_  the voice of a child.

Emily froze in shock. Nothing in the house had changed, except for the cry for help coming from a secondary corridor.

"Please... " It sounded like a little boy. "The man locked me in here! I just want to get out..."

The voice grew more urgent. This time she was certain it was a little boy. Emily's gut wrenched. God, was  _this_  why Stephen hadn't wanted her exploring the Sanctum? What kind of a monster  _was_  he?

The boy's cries grew louder. "I'm scared... It's so dark." The child began to sob.

Tears formed inside Emily's eyes. Sociopaths were nothing if not intelligent and charming. And they were also fantastic liars, fooling everyone who knew them. Stephen had been a brilliant doctor, according to everyone at Brian's party, until he became injured. What better use of a former doctor's time than studying up on how diversion and science could create illusions so that he could use his "abilities" to harm others, especially children who loved magic? The thought made Emily sick to her stomach.

The weeping of the child continued. Emily kept going down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one followed. Someone had trapped a little boy inside this house, and regardless of whether Stephen or Wong had done the despicable act, Emily was going to make sure the child was set free.

She tiptoed to the sound, hoping the boy wouldn't cry out so loudly that Stephen or Wong might come and retaliate. She had to move quickly.

"Please… Help me…"

More candles lit her way as she moved down the narrow corridor. A thick wooden door stood at the opposite end. There was no lock on the outside that she could see. Only a heavy wooden latch blocked her from getting it. Emily placed her hands on the latch. A small tingle in her fingers was all she felt before pulling it up.

As quietly as she could, Emily opened the door. It was dark inside, far too dark to see anything.

"Hey… " Emily whispered. "It's okay. I'm going to get you out. It's okay now."

The boy's sobbing stopped.

"Where are you?" She opened the door wider, trying to see inside. Maybe the boy was hiding?

A trickle of light from the hallway filtered in. A stairwell appeared in front of Emily. The same moment she realized this stairwell led down into a cellar was the same moment an invisible force yanked her inside.

She screamed. Blackness swarmed her vision, and she almost tripped down the stairs. Her scream was cut short. Something with long strands like fingers entered Emily's throat. She gagged and whipped her head around to fight them off, but the force was too strong.

Thick hopelessness overwhelmed Emily. Her insides felt like they were being clawed. The agony was unbearable. A bitter darkness entered her mind. It ripped at her emotions, her memories. The psychological torment merged with physical pain. It forced her to her knees. She could feel the wrath of the darkness, its hunger. It wanted nothing more than to infect her, to absorb her soul and replace it with its own. She sank into despair. The dark energy possessing her wouldn't let go. It would  _never_  let go. She crumbled onto the stairs, about to surrender...

Someone yanked her back. The thin tentacles jerked out of Emily's throat. She gasped to breathe. Strong arms lifted her to her feet. Inside of her, she could feel pieces of the darkness still there, trying to infect her body. She let out another piercing scream, but no sound came out. She thrashed against the darkness but nothing dislodged the despair probing her soul.

Then Stephen was in front of her, his eyes like beacons guiding her back to a reality without pain. Before Emily could try to scream again, Stephen wrapped his arms around her. And his lips connected with hers.

Whatever darkness rested inside Emily went wild. It flew from her body and into Stephen's as he inhaled. His body shook, but his mouth stayed on hers, absorbing the entity. The darkness extracted itself from her body in a whoosh of air. She was free.

Stephen broke apart from her. He fell to his knees, grunting in agony.

"Stephen?" Emily reached for him.

"Go!" He pushed her away, up the stairs to the door of the cellar.

Emily tripped over the lip at the edge of the door. Wong helped her up from the floor, his eyes wide with fright.

"What have you done?" Wong asked.

Tears filled her eyes. "I heard a… a boy. He was crying for help!"

"Stephen's soul," Wong said. "Broken echoes from his past, trapped inside that cellar." He scrambled to shut the cellar door. "He should've warned you to stay away. How did you even open this door?"

"I have to help him!"

Emily rushed to stop Wong from shutting them off from Stephen, but he held her back.

"You can't help him. If you touch him, The Thing in the Cellar will latch onto you again. You need to go. Right now. Before your emotions make the darkness stronger."

Emily watched as Stephen stumbled down the steps into the dark. "Stephen…"

At the sound of his name, Stephen turned to look at her. His eyes were filled with blackest rage. She had no idea if she was looking at Stephen or at the Thing that had gripped his spirit.

"I am so sorry…" she whispered.

The door slammed shut.


	13. Chapter 13

Emily wore out the floorboards pacing upstairs, waiting for news about what had happened to Stephen. Even from the top floor of the Sanctum, she could hear occasional noises from the cellar. Loud thumps and bangs accompanied by cries of pain. Every time Stephen's shouts echoed up to her, she forced herself to stay where she was. After what seemed like hours, a hush fell over the Sanctum.

Emily raced down the stairs terrified Stephen was dead. She turned the corner, past the second floor, and ran straight into Wong, almost bowling him over.

"Where is Stephen?" Her words tumbled out in a rush. "Is he okay?"

"Stephen's in his room. He's resting now."

Wong shuffled to get past her, but Emily blocked his way. "Is he going to be all right?"

"In time."

"What happened? What  _was_  that thing? How did it get down there?"

Maybe it was the urgency in her voice, or the concern she had for his friend. Whatever it was Wong sighed and relented. "Every time Stephen manipulates reality, he breaks a part of his soul. Over time, the negative energy from his spells combined with those pieces and became volatile. We placed them inside the most secure area of the Sanctum. It evolved into what we call The Thing in the Cellar."

"But… that thing was sentient!"

Wong nodded. "More than anything, that brokenness wants to be free. It possessed you, so Stephen had to pull the darkness out of your body and back into himself." The anger in Wong's voice seemed to be picking up speed now that he had her full attention. "Then he had to exorcise those shards of pain all over again, only instead of doing it one at a time, he was forced to do it all at once. It's not an easy task. Or a pleasant one."

Emily had to look away from the unspoken accusations in Wong's eyes. She rubbed her arms to stop herself from shaking. "I tried to get out of there as soon as I saw the stairs leading down…" She shuddered. "I heard a boy crying for help… My God, what was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to think better of Stephen. And of me."

She felt his critique like a physical blow.

Wong maneuvered past her then, leaving her alone with her guilt. She trudged to the bedroom she'd commandeered as her own for the immediate future, only to find that the door was no longer there. She sighed. The Sanctum was always moving, sometimes playing tricks on her. She had found a bathroom sink on the ceiling earlier. It seemed cruel to keep her from her bedroom though. Maybe the Sanctum had caused the door to disappear for her harming its master. She glanced down both sides of the hallway and saw only one doorway available to her. A grunt echoed out of its room.

Emily followed the sound and found herself at the entrance to Stephen's bedroom. Her footsteps were heavy with remorse as she poked her head inside. "Stephen?"

A soft groan answered her.

She found him lying under the blankets of his bed. The covers stopped halfway up his chest. He still wore his sorcerer's attire, minus the long leather jerkin. His face was pale. His eyes were closed, and he didn't move, even when she positioned herself at the side of his bed.

"Stephen?"

His chest was completely still.

Emily panicked. " _Stephen?"_

God, was he dead? She fumbled at his throat for a pulse.

His eyes snapped opened. His hand shot out to grab her wrist. Emily sucked in a breath and tried to move away from the anger inside those eyes. But within a breath, Stephen's eyes softened. His hand went limp as he relaxed his grip.

"Emily." His voice sounded like sandpaper scrapping against metal.

Her stomach clinched. "I am so sorry…"

He closed his eyes and inhaled. His breathing came in broken gasps as he struggled to speak. "Wasn't your fault… my soul… damaged. It called to you."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah, well… I still feel awful."

"Don't." Even though his eyes were closed, he found her hand and squeezed it. "If I become attached to someone… it becomes attached, too."

Her breath caught in her throat. Did he just admit to caring for her? "What did you say?"

"You heard me…" He gazed into her eyes. "I wasn't altogether honest… about what I saw… in the cauldron."

He closed his eyes. His breaths continued their sporadic rhythm. Emily stayed next to him, listening to his breathing and the silence of night inside the Sanctum. She refused to let go of his hand.

"I feel so helpless," she finally said. "Is there anything I can do?"

His eyes opened fully. He stared at her, but didn't speak.

"Stephen?"

He swallowed. "There is something, but… don't worry about it…"

"Tell me."

"Dangerous… Please… forget it."

"Dammit, just tell me!"

He closed his eyes. "Your soul… is whole. If you're willing… to give me some of your energy… it would go a long way to… curing me."

She managed a shaky smile. "I guess Wong didn't volunteer?"

A curt laugh escaped Stephen's throat. "For this? Definitely not…"

Resolve formed in her gut. "Well, Wong might not be willing to do it, but I will. You saved my life. What do I have to do?"

She wasn't prepared for what happened next. Stephen's hand moved up her arm and pulled her down next to him. She tensed as she lay down, wondering what was about to happen. His arms wrapped around her, forming a circle. It felt odd, lying with him in his bed like they were lovers. She pulled her arms up against to his chest and tried to relax.

He placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"I guess…?"

He kissed her and inhaled. Deeply.

Like before, his mouth remained on hers. Only this time instead of feeling despair and anguish being ripped from her core, she felt energy being drained from her. Dizziness swirled over her vision. The vertigo made her moan.

He broke off the connection. "Are you okay?" His voice was warm against her ear.

She couldn't answer. She closed her eyes, and her body went limp in his arms. No wonder Wong didn't volunteer for this.

"I've got you." He tightened his embrace. Already he sounded stronger.

Emily had no idea what he had done, but it was like her body was made of lead. She couldn't move if she tried. She tried opening her eyes, and the room spun around her. She squeezed her eyes shut against it. Her cheek lay against Stephen's chest, and she could hear his heart beating strong through his robes. He inhaled, and his breathing was steady. Her hands felt the ripple of muscles as his chest rose and fell with every breath. She breathed with him.

It took her several minutes to find her voice. She still didn't trust the room not to spin, so her eyes stayed closed. "That wasn't… the worst thing I've ever experienced."

Stephen chuckled.

"So… was that all I had to do?"

When he didn't answer right away, she knew the answer was 'no.' She wondered if she could die from this, if he kept drawing energy from her. Would her heart stop? Or her breathing? "How much… more energy do you need?"

"I don't want to risk making you weaker."

"Why?" His reluctance touched her, especially since it was obviously making him better. "Will it kill me?"

"I would never risk your life. You should feel fine in about an hour or so."

"Then… I can go again," she said.

"No. It's okay… I can spend a few days recovering my strength."

Emily would've laughed out loud if she were strong enough. She couldn't imagine the havoc that could be unleashed in her city if its sorcerer remained stuck in bed for days on end, nursing a broken soul.

His lips brushed against her forehead. "I'm feeling stronger already. Really." His fingers wound themselves against the back of her neck as he caressed the sensitive skin there. "Sleep now."

Minutes passed. Or hours. She wasn't sure. She might have dozed off. One minute she was thinking about how crazy Manhattan would be without Stephen to protect it, and the next she was opening her eyes against the heat of his chest. Her eyelids fluttered against the fabric of his robes. The room had stopped spinning.

Stephen must have been awake. His fingers stroked her hair as she rested against him.

Emily lifted her head to look at him. That simple act wasn't dizzying, not anymore. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Much better. You?"

She parted her lips. His blue eyes remained locked on hers, waiting for her to say something.

But talking wasn't what Emily had in mind. She reached up to stroke his face and sealed her lips with his.

She felt a tremor run through him. His arms tightened around her as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to her. She expected him to inhale her energy again, to accept the gift of her life, but he didn't. He just kissed her, slow and deep.

Warmth spread throughout her body.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. Emily rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. She felt dizzy for a different reason now. It had been a long time since she'd been kissed like that.

Emily spoke first. "The city won't be swallowed by some kind of inter-dimensional monster over the next twenty-four hours, will it?"

"If it is, I'm sure Wong can handle it."

His fingertips stroked her face delicately, barely moving. She rested in his embrace for a long moment, just listened to him breathe. Then, she kissed him again.

Their lips became more urgent, their kisses deeper. Light gasps turned into soft moans. Clothing fluttered to the floor. Caresses became strokes. Pleasure became ecstasy. Sunlight flooded into the bedroom only to be replaced by moonlight, then sunlight again. And when their bodies and souls were finally spent, their eyes closed in sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The shrill sound of a drill woke Emily. It pierced the calm inside the bedroom like a nuclear blast. She groaned and buried her head against the warmth of Stephen's chest.

"Construction." Stephen sighed. "My house is an unmitigated disaster."

Emily smiled and arched her neck to kiss him again. "Well, your lovemaking certainly isn't."

His grin lit up the room.

She'd been surprised at how vivacious Stephen had been. She had assumed their lovemaking would've made him weaker, but the opposite seemed to have happened. The more physical they became, the stronger Stephen grew. Maybe having that kind of intimacy created some sort of mystical exchange all its own.

She stretched. "What day is it, anyway?"

"The contractors are back, so it must be Monday. They don't work on weekends."

"It's Monday?" Emily tore herself away from his embrace and landed in a heap beside the bed. "Dammit! I have to go."

"Let me guess…" Stephen gazed down at her. "Work?"

"Yes. God, how cliché is that?" Her clothes sat in a jumbled pile on the floor. Emily picked up her wrinkled blouse with a sigh. "Guess I know what I'll be doing on my lunch break, assuming I can get access to my bank account."

Stephen swung his legs around so he could sit up. "Remember what I said about the fear lord trying to kill you?"

To be honest, the past two nights had made her forget all about that damn fear lord, and her apartment. Hell, even the work she loved had become a distant memory. Having to now adjust to reality was like having a blast of ice-cold water thrown into her face. "What can I do?" she said. "I can't sequester myself inside your house. Believe me, I wish I could…"  _God, how she wished she could._  "But I  _have_  to go to work."

"I understand."

She stopped buttoning her blouse to look up at him in disbelief. "Really?"

He nodded.

His sudden somberness made her uneasy. "Will I be okay?" she asked.

"There's a enchantment protecting my room from dimensional threats, and you've been inside of it for the past two nights. If there was anything following you, it hasn't been able to track you during that time."

He stood to his feet and pulled her against him. She felt her heart race from the heat of his skin, the scent of his body.

"We can minimize the fear lord finding you by conjuring a gateway inside your office."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"Be careful if you have to leave your office."

He turned from her then. His forehead creased, as if he were pondering the secrets of the universe. Emily slipped on her skirt as she watched him.

"I'm going to give you use of the Cloak of Levitation."

"What?" Emily dropped her arms in surprise, and her skirt almost fell to the floor. The cloak was always close to Stephen, almost a part of him. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"I hope it doesn't mind babysitting me again." Emily wasn't naïve about the trust Stephen was placing in her by loaning her his cloak. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had been so thoughtful or concerned about her wellbeing. It was humbling, this trust he placed in her. "Thank you."

He kissed her lightly on the lips, and it took every ounce of willpower not to jump back inside his bed. "You're welcome," he whispered.

With no business suit to select and no make-up to put on, Emily finished getting ready in record time. When she was fully dressed, the cloak floated over to her. It draped itself over her shoulders and began to change color and shape. Before her eyes, it morphed into a navy blue business suit. She stared down at herself in amazement, touching the sleeves. The cloak squeezed her arm gently in response.

"Ready?" Stephen asked.

She nodded.

Stephen created a portal directly into her office. It shouldn't have surprised her, his ability to do these incredible things with hardly any effort at all, but it still did. Maybe it always would. She stepped through, and Stephen came in right behind her.

His eyes scanned her office as she waited in nervous anticipation. When he assured her there was nothing inter-dimensional near her, they said their goodbyes. It hurt her heart, watching him leave. Even the cloak seemed to slump in disappointment against her body. But once the gateway closed and Emily plopped into her chair, her mind forced her to focus on the Lawrence case. She had just finished checking email when someone tapped on her door.

A voice outside her office piped up. "Oh, hey Linda. Emily hasn't come in yet." It sounded like Megan.

"I'm here!" Emily shouted.

A beat later and Linda slithered into her office. "When do you get in?" Her voice was an octave above incredulous. "I didn't see you."

Emily smiled. "I've been here for hours."

Linda's eyes narrowed at that admission, which only made Emily smile wider.

"So, what can I do for you Linda?"

"There's a conference with the Lawrences in thirty minutes."

"I see." Emily felt her heart rate rise. "What's going on?"

Linda sighed. "The trial date's been moved up."

"What?"

She nodded. "We don't know why yet. It could be all the publicity surrounding inhumans."

 _Publicity that you began_ , Emily wanted to snipe. Instead, she wisely kept her mouth shut. "When is jury selection?"

"Two days."

 _"Two days?"_  Emily jumped to her feet, slamming her knees into the top of her desk. Pain shot through her body, awakening her brain. The cloak recoiled against her legs where the fabric had hit. Emily smoothed out the fabric, hoping the cloak would know that was her way of apologizing. "That… that doesn't just happen!"

"Well, it's happening now. I'll see you in the executive conference room in thirty minutes. Bring everything you have. We'll work through lunch."

The last time Emily had scrambled this quickly was before a mock trial in law school. It took her the entire thirty minutes to organize her notes and folders. By the time she made it into the conference room, everyone had already arrived.

Brian and Stilton Lawrence were seated in front of the giant windows. Father and son locked eyes with her as she entered. Emily could've sworn she saw a strange shimmer hovering near the two, but when she blinked against the glare of the blinds, the shimmer disappeared. A trick of the light, she realized.

The cloak went stiff around her body. Emily prayed that it wouldn't decide to unfurl and hurl itself across the room.

"Glad you could make it, Miss Graham." Brian's grin carried the weight of sardonic insult. "We were just wondering when you would show up."

Emily didn't answer the quip. Foggy and Megan exchanged a look of concern as Emily took her seat.

Megan spoke up first. "We have the data for our jury selection study. I've made copies for everyone."

Megan tried to pass out the sheets, but Brian held up a hand. "Before we begin, I would like to apologize to Emily for what happened at my party on Thursday evening. I had no idea an inhuman could create so much havoc so easily. If an inhuman can get to me, then they can get to anyone. It just helps me sleep better at night knowing that Derrick Johnson is dead before he could've done more damage to others."

Emily studied Stilton's face as his father spoke. The boy shifted in his chair, and Emily wondered what Brian would do if he found out about his son's abilities. Well, Brian would never find out from her.

The meeting took the rest of the day. Someone ordered lunch, but except for the occasional bite, Emily was too busy consolidating her notes to eat. When she finally made it back inside her office, her phone was ringing. She lunged for the receiver. "Emily Graham."

"Emily, hey. It's Malcolm Ducasse. From Cheng Consulting."

In the background, Emily could hear the steady noise of passing cars. Malcolm wasn't in his office then. She wondered if he was just getting off work, or if he was on a job. "Hi Malcolm. How are you?"

"Not bad. You?"

She thought about her weekend and couldn't help but smile. "I can't complain."

"Listen, I know I said it would take me a while to get to your case, but something happened a few days ago."

"Okay…"

"I'm on my cell about three blocks from Chao & Benowitz, and I need to talk to you."

"Great! I look forward to seeing what you found. I can greet you at reception…"

"No."

Emily frowned. Before she could ask why, Malcolm interrupted.

"Sorry, but we can't meet at your office."

She made herself comfortable behind her desk. "Okay, then. I'm listening. What's going on?"

"And not over the phone. I'm sorry. I have my reasons, but I know it looks like I'm being a pain in the ass. Can we meet at the Rye Guys deli?"

Emily tapped a finger on her desk. She'd be okay leaving the office for a while. She had to make it to the bank at some point anyway. She gazed down at the mountain of paperwork on her desk, and tried to ignore the acid building in her stomach. As if the cloak sensed her discomfort, it rippled once against her back. "I guess that would be alright. What time?"

"Now."


	15. Chapter 15

The Rye Guys sit-down deli was a staple for quick lunch in downtown Manhattan. Thankfully, it was also on the same block as her office building. Emily hurried to the deli, wondering why Malcolm was so insistent that he not step foot inside her office. The cloak seemed to understand her anxiety on some level. It wrapped itself around Emily even more tightly, but she didn't mind. If anything, she was grateful for the cloak's protection.

Emily arrived at the deli before Malcolm. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of ham and pastrami, but she had no money thanks to her apartment going up in an inter-dimensional explosion. So she grabbed a free cup of water and sipped at her tiny portion. And waited.

Malcolm arrived just a few minutes later. "Hey."

He must have jogged the whole way down Broadway. He sounded out of breath. His eyes scanned the deli in the same conspicuous way she had when she'd come in. She had been surveying the deli for anything supernatural. She wondered what Malcolm was looking for.

"I'm starving," he said. "Can I get you anything?"

"Normally I'd do the polite thing and pass on a free meal, but I've had a rough couple of days."

He nodded. "What I'm about to tell you probably won't make things better."

"What's going on Malcolm? Why all the intrigue?"

But he wouldn't say more until they had heaping hot sandwiches and cold soft drinks in front of them at a table in the far back. Malcolm chose the seat with its back to the wall so he could see the entire deli in front of him. He took a huge bite of his Italian sub before speaking.

"There's an associate inside my consulting firm, a man named David Warkinski, who's been paid to follow you," Malcolm said. "And I have no idea why."

"Me?"

"I'll start from the beginning." Malcolm took a sip of his Coke, and Emily wondered if he was buying time, trying to find the right words to explain his revelation. "On Saturday I started checking out Derrick Johnson, and you were right. His family wasn't too happy about it, but I did find out his powers consisted of some kind of enhanced speed. That was all they'd tell me. He even had a track scholarship lined up at an Ivy League after graduation."

Emily nodded. This confirmed what Charles Xavier had said about Derrick, and unfortunately, contradicted Stilton's confession. Her mind tabled that admission as she swallowed another bite of her sub. "Not good news for me. But what does that have to do with someone from your consulting firm following me?"

"I'm getting to that. I thought I'd start with good news first." Malcolm glanced around him. "Do your associates have any reason to hire someone to investigate you?"

Emily shrugged. "Maybe. It's  _possible_  I'm up for senior partner, though with the way things have been going the last few days, I'd be shocked if I'm actually offered the position."

"Well, yesterday I stopped checking out Derrick Johnson, and started checking on who hired David."

"What's his full name again?"

"David Warkinski."

Emily turned the name over in her mind, and finally shook her head. "I've never heard of him. And I've haven't seen anyone following me around."

Malcolm let out a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, well, we P.I.s are supposed to blend, you know?"

"What was he paid to find out?"

"Where you live, your habits and patterns. Shit like that. I found pictures he'd taken of you leaving your apartment and that place on Bleecker Street, too."

Emily almost choked on her sandwich. She wondered if this David Warkinski had photographed Stephen, or Wong, or anything else unexplainable from the Sanctum. Stephen wouldn't be thrilled to learn about this new turn of events. "And you're sure David was hired by someone at Chao and Benowitz?"

Malcolm nodded. "That's who's paying him anyway."

Emily sat back, processing this. Anyone at the firm could go through HR and find out where she lived, for God's sake. After all, her paperwork was right there. Unless only the payments were being routed through Chao and Benowitz and it had nothing to do with the law firm at all, at least not directly.

"So, you can see why I didn't want to come up to your office," Malcolm said.

"I told Linda I'd hired someone at Cheng Consulting last week, and she didn't bat an eye."

"Well, if she didn't recognize my consulting firm, maybe that's one less person you have to worry about, right?" Malcolm finished off his Coke with a grin. "I mean, unless she was possessed or something."

The cloak gave Emily's waist a squeeze, but whether in warning or reassurance, she wasn't sure.

"At any rate," Malcolm continued, "it's either someone inside Chao and Benowitz, or one of their clients."

Emily thought about the flaming madman at Brian's party, how single-minded he had been at trying to kill her. And about how much of Brian's apology seemed to center around his fear of humans being targeted by inhumans. She couldn't see Brian hiring anyone to spy on her. She certainly couldn't imagine Linda wasting that kind of money. But someone had.

"There's another piece of good news." Malcolm crumpled his sandwich wrapper. "David hasn't been on your tail since Friday evening. He came back to the office that night completely spooked. Apparently he was near that apartment complex that exploded in the East Village…"

"That was my apartment," Emily whispered.

Malcolm placed his Coke back on the table. "No shit?"

She nodded. "Do you have a picture of David? I'd like to know who's following me. Can you do that?"

He smiled. "Sure can. Hold on." Malcolm pulled out his cell phone. "I'm sure he's on Insta or something online. Most people are, right?"

Emily had no idea. Her colleagues seemed more interested in working than in posting pictures on Instagram or Facebook.

As Malcolm navigated the WiFi, Emily found herself envying the luxury he had of information at his fingertips. She vowed to stop by the bank as soon as they were done so she could to replace her cell phone.

"Here he is." Malcolm handed her his phone. "He's the guy on the left. Grainy picture, but…"

It was a candid shot of a group of guys at a brewery, each one holding a different oversized shot glass with their sample of beer. The man on the left grinned as he stared into the camera. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

"I haven't seen him before." Emily felt the familiar frustration of helplessness flood through her. Two men, each one with nefarious motives, and both were strangers. "Can you email me the link? At least my office computer works."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks. I don't recognize the guy, but maybe Stephen will."

"Stephen, huh?" Malcolm slid his phone back inside a back pocket with a grin. "Who's Stephen?"

Emily paused. She would've blushed if she weren't so overwhelmed with mental fatigue. What should she say? The sorcerer I had sex with all weekend? "He's… just a guy."

Malcolm's grin widened. "Uh huh."

Time to change the subject. "I have another favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"I was attacked at the party Brian Lawrence threw in my supposed honor on Thursday night on the terrace of his residence. If you could find the identity of the guy who tried to kill me, I'd be grateful. I think he might be linked to my case, though I have no idea how."

"Holy shit. Someone tried to kill you  _twice?_  And here I thought P.I. work was dangerous." He brought up his phone again and opened an app to take notes. "What's the guy's name?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, if he was picked up by the police, I can track him down that way."

"Except he's not in jail."

Malcolm looked up from the notes he'd been taking and arched an eyebrow at her.

Emily debated whether to tell him the whole truth, that a professor named Charles Xavier, the head of a school full of mutants, had the guy cooped up somewhere, ostensibly trying to cure him. She settled for a partial confession instead. "All I know is that the man was a server at Brian Lawrence's party last Thursday night. His employment record might have been pulled already, but he disappeared that night. Someone must remember him, even if they don't recall him trying to burn me alive."

"Hold up. People at this party  _might not_  remember him trying to  _burn you alive?_  What kind of messed up party  _was_  this?"

"It's… complicated."

Malcolm exhaled a whistle. "Must be."

"Do you think you can get back to me in a couple days? Jury selection starts in forty-eight hours."

He nodded. "You got it."

"Thank you Malcolm." Emily stood and tried to shake his hand, but Malcolm enveloped her in a friendly hug instead. She accepted the kindness gratefully. "You can put this meal on my bill, okay?"

"Nope." He smiled. "My treat."

She didn't deserve him. If she ever ran into Jessica Jones again, maybe she'd buy her a drink. Her rudeness had led her to Malcolm, the second nicest man she'd met in the last week.

Emily made it to the bank and managed to get some much needed funds, but that was all she had time for. The rest of the evening was spent bent over her work, plotting out questions for potential jurors thanks to Megan's data.

Sometime after 9PM the golden ring of a portal opened inside her office, and Stephen stepped out. Emily could only gift him with the briefest smile before digging back into her questions.

"Busy day?" Stephen asked.

"You have no idea."

He didn't sit, Emily noticed. He stayed standing, remaining alert.

"Just finishing up notes for jury selection. It starts the day after tomorrow."

"I thought you had weeks before your trial."

"So did I. It's unprecedented."

He strolled to the window. "The Superhuman Registration Act will push through the Rules committee soon. It will be up for a vote before we know it."

Emily dropped her pen and rubbed her eyes. "And now we have my trial being pushed through. It can't be a coincidence."

She hadn't thought much about the connection before. On the surface, starting Stilton's trial while inhumans were in the headlines was a dream come true for her, and her client if she played her cards right. But the coincidence made her uneasy, and she had no idea why.

"Will you be ready?"

Her laugh was harsh. "No, but I'll manage. Foggy and Megan are on my team, and Linda will be there. So, what could go wrong?"

He gave her a pitying look.

"By the way," Emily opened the email on her desktop computer. Sure enough, Malcolm had sent David's image. "I spoke with my P.I. for the Lawrence case this afternoon. A man named David Warkinski, who works at Cheng Consulting, has been paid by someone to follow me, and…" She took a deep breath. "He apparently has been surveying the Sanctum, too."

Stephen moved closer to her computer. She clicked on the picture to make it large enough for Stephen to see.

"His payments are being routed through Chao and Benowitz, so it has to be a client because anyone here could find most stuff on me through HR. I just don't know who would do this. It can't be Brian Lawrence."

"I agree. A P.I. isn't Brian's style." Stephen leaned forward to study the image of David Warkinski on her screen. He sucked in a breath when he saw it.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I know that man." Stephen's face twisted in anger. "I recognized him by the Mets cap. He was near the Sanctum on Friday evening when I was heading to your apartment. He's one of two men who distracted me right before your building blew up."

Emily's throat went dry. She was about to ask Stephen if he thought David was actively trying to kill her when the Cloak of Levitation snapped itself off of Emily and rushed to the door of her office. The cloak hovered there, as if waiting for someone to open the door.

Stephen frowned. "I think it wants to show us something."

He opened the door, and the cloak darted off down the hall.

Stephen shot a questioning look over his shoulder at Emily, but her disbelief matched his own. They followed the cloak down the halls of Chao and Benowitz, all the while glancing around to make sure no one else had glimpsed the flying cloak. But if anyone from Chao and Benowitz was still here working this late, they did so in their own offices.

The cloak flew down the hall, hurrying down a corridor away from the elevators. It stopped at the door to the executive conference room.

"Anything special about this room?" Stephen asked when they caught up with the cloak.

"Only that it was the room where we met the Lawrences today. We had our final meeting here for most of the afternoon."

Stephen opened the door, and Emily flipped on the lights so they could see. The cloak floated to the windows. It rested there, unmoving.

Stephen frowned over at his relic. "Was the view in Emily's office not enough for you today?"

The bottom of the cloak snapped in answer, as if annoyed by Stephen's ignorance.

Stephen and Emily moved closer to the cloak, observing the room for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing.

"Did anything unusual happen here today?" Stephen asked.

"No," Emily said. "Well, except for Brian actually apologizing to me for almost dying at his party."

Stephen grinned. "That does sound supernatural. Brian never apologizes."

The cloak darted back and forth around the same spot next to the window.

Stephen walked over to the cloak. "What are you trying to tell us?" He muttered. He flicked open the blinds to stare outside.

"Is there anything out there?"

Stephen shook his head, turned and gripped one of the plush chairs in front of him.

"Wait," Emily said. "Brian sat in that chair today."

"Something inter-dimensional in nature had to have happened here today. The cloak wouldn't bring us here and remain in this spot unless it was important. Are you  _sure_  nothing out of the ordinary happened? It could have been something minuscule…"

"I thought I saw a shimmer when I walked in, but it was just the light from outside being bent from the slant of the blinds."

The cloak wrapped itself around Stephen's neck, no longer animated but still.

"Stand back," Stephen said.

Emily took several steps backward. She bumped into the wall behind her.

"Oh, and if you don't mind, could you guard the door so no one enters?"

Emily watched from her position at the door. Crimson light burned from Stephen's hands. It looked like bands of lava swirling in and out of the space. The weave changed from red into a soft golden glow. Then the light blinked out.

"A fear lord was here," Stephen said. "The same one that was inside your apartment just before it exploded.


	16. Chapter 16

Stephen waited until Emily was asleep inside his room before ducking out of the Sanctum. The last hour hadn't been pleasant for either one of them. They'd spent the time trying to decipher why a fear lord had been inside Chao and Benowitz and who might be its host. Stephen's money was on Brian Lawrence.

The fear lord had been inside Emily's office, close enough to hurt her if it hadn't been for the cloak's vigilance. According to Emily, the shimmering had vanished as soon as the cloak had entered the room that afternoon. Stephen vowed to take some time tomorrow to show Emily the shimmering that pinpointed a gateway being opened by the fear dimension.

The cloak wouldn't be joining him on this particular excursion tonight. It had stayed behind with Emily in the Sanctum, ever watchful. Stephen wondered, for perhaps the thousandth time, how much magic was stored inside the cloak and how other entities, like fear lords, seemed able to sense it. He missed the cloak's reassuring presence on his shoulders, but he also knew that the cloak had the ability to take care of itself and Emily if another gateway opened.

Outside the Sanctum, the night was quiet. It was almost midnight, and only a few locals roamed the sidewalks at this late hour. Normally, Stephen would wait until daylight to perform this task, but time was of the essence. Besides he knew Jessica Jones would be awake.

Stephen waited to make sure nothing from another reality crept nearby, then concentrated his power…

… and emerged in front of 485 West on 46th Street. Stephen squared his shoulders and walked inside.

Jessica wasn't the only Defender who had lived at the Sanctum at various times over the last few years. Luke Cage was a frequent visitor, as well as a young man named Danny Rand. There had been times when Wong had questioned the open-door policy especially when its occupants created unnecessary chaos, but Stephen assured him that it was necessary for the survival of this timeline. Reality had to be protected at all costs, and if that meant providing hospitality and having his quiet existence inconvenienced from time to time by Earth's physical defenders, then so be it.

Once outside of Alias Investigations, Stephen didn't bother knocking. He simply walked inside. Jessica was seated behind her desk with a tumbler of whiskey at her elbow. The light from her laptop screen cast an eerie glow across her face making her features appear even paler than usual.

Jessica didn't even glance in Stephen's direction when he entered. "Using the front door this time?"

"Yeah, well… I thought it might be rude to just appear beside you this late at night."

"Like that ever stopped you before?" She shook her head and continued typing. "So, what can I do for you Sorcerer Supreme?"

"I need you to help me find a private investigator who works at Cheng Consulting."

At the words 'Cheng Consulting' Jessica rolled her eyes, but she didn't look up from her screen.

Stephen smiled. "I can tell how much you love the people there."

"Why the hell should I help you find some asshole at Cheng?"

"Because this asshole is responsible for trying to kill a friend of mine."

She finally looked up with a smile. "This  _friend_  of yours wouldn't happen to be a certain female lawyer, would she?"

Stephen frowned. "How did you know about Emily?"

"Word gets around." Jessica studied the concern on Stephen's face and sighed. "In other words, Malcolm has a big mouth."

"What did he say?"

"He just thanked me for giving him a free client last week." Jessica closed her laptop and palmed her drink. "Look, as much as I hate Cheng, I don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"The P.I. tailing Emily is a man named David Warkinski. The last time I saw him, he was working with an inhuman. A teleporter."

Jessica leaned back in her chair with a frown. "Not Nightcrawler, I take it?"

He shook his head. "This teleporter isn't one of Xavier's. And either that teleporter or David is being controlled by an inter-dimensional being known as a fear lord."

"Sounds like a job for a sorcerer, not a P.I."

"I need to question David right away. If he knows anything about the objective of the fear lords, then my job will be easy."

"And if not?"

"Then it will be a lot harder for me to get answers. Unless you happen to know a bar where teleporters hang out."

"Nope. So my P.I. skills are worthless here. But you don't need an investigator, do you?" She downed her glass of whiskey and set her tumbler back into her desk with a knowing smile. "You need someone who can be… persuasive once we find out where David is."

Stephen nodded. "Though I'd prefer it if you left David Warkinski in good health afterwards."

"How about  _decent_  health?"

He sighed. "I'll settle for decent."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Jessica shrugged into her signature jacket with a smile. "I was having a shit day, but at least it will end on a high note. You ready?"

He nodded and opened a gateway right into the lobby of Cheng Consulting.

As soon as they were through, Jessica gave him a rare grin. "You know, this is a pretty kick-ass way to travel, right?"

Stephen returned her smile. "It has its uses."

They sauntered through the lobby like they owned the place. It was late, far too late for anyone to be working there. Stephen closed his eyes to see into this reality with more clarity while Jessica checked the darkened offices for the one that belonged to David. At the end of the hall, Jessica stopped.

"Malcolm's new digs." She pointed to the last office.

Stephen glanced inside. "Looks nice."

She gave him a sour look, which made Stephen's smile widen.

They continued through the office. Every few minutes, Jessica's eyes would be drawn to papers left on desks or unlocked office doors with secrets tucked away inside for her to discover. Stephen continued to keep his senses open for any sign of the fear lords, but for now their reality was bathed in calm.

"Found David's office," Jessica shouted.

Stephen joined her at the door. Jessica turned the knob, but it was locked. Before Stephen could suggest making a gateway to get inside, Jessica had already broken the lock and shoved the door open. Once inside, she flipped on the lights and started rummaging through David's desk. He decided to shelve a lecture on breaking and entering, especially since it was his magic that had brought them there in the first place.

Jessica held up a picture from the desk. It showed David with Malcolm and other male colleagues from Cheng Consulting at a retro country and western bar, everyone holding up a shot. Another framed photo had him at a Mets game with more male compatriots. His Mets cap was front and center in both.

"Guess he loves his hometown." Jessica discarded the pictures with a frown. "Do people actually frame photos like these anymore?"

David Warkinski looked older than Stephen was, and Stephen could still remember a time when having to wait one-hour for a physical photo was considered lightning fast. "They do."

Jessica tapped the first picture with her finger. "I recognize this bar. It's a country-themed joint in Brooklyn. You want to pay David a visit tonight? Someone there might recognize his picture."

She snatched up the framed picture as Stephen made a gateway. The pair stepped through and arrived just outside of a bar called Skinny Dennis. Live country music drifted out, an aching solo memorializing the singer's broken-down truck and lost love. On the glass storefront were the words "Cold beer" and "Hot peanuts" separated by a horseshoe.

"Interesting establishment," Stephen said.

"Yeah, country shit isn't my thing, but the beers on tap are all good."

Jessica strolled to the door and was inside before Stephen had a chance to think through exactly what he'd planned to do. He had no idea if the bartender would be willing to talk, or even tell them where David lived, assuming he frequented this place often enough for the bartenders to know him at all. Stephen hoped David resided someplace here in Brooklyn, but there were no guarantees. He and Jessica could be searching all night for his home address.

With a sigh, Stephen headed for the entrance. Before he could open it, a man hurled past him. The man yelped as he tumbled through the air. He landed on the cement next to Stephen.

Jessica waltzed out with a smile. "Found your scumbag." She tossed the picture on top of the withering man on the sidewalk. "Didn't need the photo."

David groaned from his prone position. He didn't have his Mets cap on this time, but looked the same as he had when they'd met.

"Hello David." Stephen leaned down so the man could see his face.

David's eyes went wide. He froze in place.

"You remember me," Stephen smiled. "That's good. I need to ask you some questions."

"Fuck off."

Before Stephen could retort, Jessica kicked the man in the ribs. David clutched his stomach and curled into the fetal position. Stephen shot her an icy look.

"What?" Jessica asked. "You said you needed answers fast, right?"

Stephen glanced around him. Several patrons were coming closer, pointing to where they stood. The last thing he wanted was bad publicity when inhumans were in the spotlight.

"Let's go someplace more private," Stephen whispered.

"How about Cheng Consulting?" Jessica offered.

Stephen nodded. "Follow me."

Jessica picked David up in her arms as if he weighed no more than an infant, and the three raced away from the bar. Once clear from prying eyes, Stephen created a gateway back into the quiet interior of Cheng. As soon as the trio went through, Jessica dropped David unceremoniously on the drab office carpet.

"Please…" David stumbled away from the pair, still clinching his ribs. "I don't know anything…"

"But you remember me, don't you?" Stephen asked. "I was the one you were following when an apartment in the East Village exploded."

"Yeah, but nobody died, right?" David glared at him. "Besides, I was  _paid_  to follow you. So what's the big deal?"

"Actually," Stephen corrected. "I believe you were paid to follow a woman named Emily Graham."

David appeared confused.

Stephen nodded toward Jessica. "Does my friend need to jog your memory?"

David glanced over at Jessica and paled. "No. Hell no. I remember now."

"Fantastic." Stephen folded his arms over his chest and smiled. "Tell me everything."

David licked his lips and grimaced when the blood drying on his mouth touched his tongue. "I could scream, you know."

Stephen waved his hand, forming a sound barrier. It bathed the room in rust-colored light. "Scream away."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "This is bullshit. We're wasting time." She marched toward David.

David yelped and rolled away from her, his arm covering his face. "Okay! Okay! I was hired specifically for Emily Graham." His eyes darted up to Stephen. "Because of what happened at that party."

Stephen frowned. "Who hired you? Brian Lawrence…"

David shook his head. A new trickle of blood fell from his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. "I wasn't hired by Brian."

Jessica's dark eyes studied him. "So who's paying you?"

"Chao and Benowitz are paying me, but that's only because the kid is a client and doesn't have his own credit card."

Stephen sucked in a breath. Brian had been the orchestrator of Emily's attack at his party. He was the party host, the only one who could've planned it and had wanted her there.

Jessica didn't notice Stephen's mind churning over David's disclosure. She rolled her eyes. "Are you serious? You took a job to follow a sorcerer from a  _kid?"_

At the word "sorcerer," a shudder went through David. He stammered. "Linda Chao… she vouched for the kid. I met them both last week. The kid, Stilton I think was his name… he was there with her, but there was something… off about those two. Like they weren't all there."

 _Like they weren't all there._ Stephen processed those words as Jessica asked another question.

"When did they hire you?" she said.

"Late Thursday night. It was weird. Cheng must've given them my cell, and I met them a little ways from my apartment. They were murmuring about something having gone wrong at that party. The only background they gave me, besides the names, was that they wanted to know where Emily's apartment was and whether or not she was dating some wizard." He cast a fearful glance at Stephen. "You, I take it."

A fear lord controlled Stilton then. And Linda Chao was either also enslaved or was being manipulated by Stilton's abilities. Stilton's powers seemed to dart in and out of this reality. Stephen remembered his notes on the boy verbatim, his theory about how Stilton might be drawing power from an inter-dimensional source. And fear lords created strong connections between themselves and their hosts, especially if their hosts were sadistic and fed off of fear in their own right. Stephen felt his stomach drop as anger rose up inside.

"Is that everything?" Stephen's asked. His tone was darker than the faux wood desk beside him.

David wavered.

Before Stephen could be more specific in his line of questioning, Jessica punched David in the gut.

David gagged and rolled up onto his knees. Jessica posed to strike again, but he put up a hand in surrender. "No. Before I followed Emily, they wanted me to get a DNA sample."

Stephen couldn't have heard him correctly. "They wanted a sample of Emily's DNA?"

David gulped, nodded. "It's messed up, I know."

Stephen could feel his anger growing in intensity. "Did you get it?"

David's face contorted with fear at what the repercussion of his answer might be. And that look of fear gave Stephen all he needed to know.

David nodded. "It wasn't hard. Loose hairs left from where she sat on the subway, cups she drank out of..."

The thought of having this man, this stranger, violating Emily's privacy by taking a part of her and keeping it for some sick purpose made Stephen want to punch David in the throat. Jessica must have read the struggle for violence on Stephen's face because she immediately stepped in.

"Why did they ask you for a DNA sample?" Jessica asked. "Did they tell you?"

"No. I… I don't know why. I swear."

Stephen glanced over at Jessica, to see if her expression mimicked his own anger and confusion. But instead of reading a complex mixture of parallel emotions on Jessica's face, all he saw was despair. Her face had turned so pale, he was afraid she might faint.

"Jessica?" Stephen touched her arm. He was probably one of the few men who could get away with that kind of friendly intimacy with her without getting any broken bones. "What's wrong?"

"Brian Lawrence…" she said. "He works for a hospital, doesn't he?"

Stephen nodded. "New York Presbyterian. He also oversees multiple clinics and donates to various pharmaceutical companies. There was one in the news back when I was still in neuroscience, a small private hospital that helped develop cutting-edge drugs, but it was gutted years ago."

"Was that small private hospital called IGH?"

Stephen realized the connection at that moment. IGH was the hospital Jessica was taken to after her accident, the one that experimented on her and other humans, giving them their abilities.

"Those experiments are still happening. Hell, there's probably still places all over New York that continue to turn innocent people into  _this_." Jessica slammed her fist into a nearby desk and smashed through the wood.

Rage flowed through Jessica's breathing as she turned back to Stephen. "If Emily's DNA has some abnormality, something that might make her susceptible to experiments that could create enhancements..."

Stephen shot a glare at David. The man's expression morphed from perplexed to terrified. "I didn't know," David whispered. "I promise you, I didn't know!"

"I have to go back to the Sanctum and warn Emily," Stephen said.

The ping of the elevator was the only warning Stephen and Jessica had before the albino teleporter stepped out. He grinned, and before Stephen could attack, the teleporter began to create a portal right in front of them. The darkness inside that portal formed a vortex that stopped Stephen's power from being directed toward it.

"Who the hell is  _that?"_  Jessica said.

"That's the teleporter," Stephen said. "He's being controlled. It's the same signature as the fear lord who possessed a pyromaniac I met inside the containment cells of Xavier's basement."

"Glad you two know each other," Jessica muttered. "How the hell do we get past him?"

"We can't."

The portal was gaining in strength. At it grew, the space beyond turned darker until it was pitch black. Stephen recognized the energy well. It led directly into the fear dimension.

Everyone reacted differently. David let out a scream of terror and ducked under the nearest desk. Jessica pushed to get closer to it, her body locked in a fighting stance, ready to battle. Stephen admired her spirit. He wanted to fight as well.

But once inside the fear dimension, Jessica's powers would be worthless. And that was assuming she didn't lose her mind first. Even with her formidable strength, she wouldn't be prepared to fight against the totality of fear. He'd battled fear lords only once inside their dimension, and it had made the Dark Dimension seem like Disneyland.

Stephen pivoted, hoping to create a gateway and hop inside with Jessica and David, but the vortex around the fear lord's portal was too intense. Its force was sucking him inside, and if he didn't act quickly, the two innocents with him would be sucked inside as well.

There was still time for them. Stephen pictured the inside of Jessica's apartment in Hell's Kitchen. His gateway opened at the far end of the Cheng Consulting office.

"Go inside." Stephen nodded to the gateway. "And take David with you if you can."

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Jessica shouted.

"Saving you from a journey you'd rather not take."

She grabbed the front of Stephen's shirt and almost caused his gateway to collapse. "I didn't ask you to save my ass!"

"Emily's at the Sanctum." He shoved Jessica back from the vortex.  _"Warn her."_

It took precious seconds for Jessica to slog away from the fear lord's portal, but her strength won out. Once she was a few feet away, she raced to Stephen's gateway. David didn't fare as well. He clawed at the thin carpeting on the floor, trying to gain the leverage to pull away as Jessica had. His cries of failure echoed through the room.

Jessica darted through. Once back inside her apartment, she whipped around. "Come on!" she called to David.

Stephen glanced back at David. He had no desire for the kind of revenge that would equate with that man being forced inside the fear dimension. But David couldn't break free. Stephen closed his eyes against the horrifying screams as David was sucked inside. With a pang of regret, he closed his gateway so Jessica could stay safe.

Stephen turned to face the teleporter in front of him, but the albino had vanished. The fear lord, however, remained. He stood a foot taller than Stephen, his skull brushing the ceiling.

"Okay douchebag," Stephen growled. "Let's get this over with."

The fear lord grinned with two rows if razor sharp teeth. His gateway was complete.

Beyond the circle was deep despair and darkness. Stephen could feel the fear leaking out from the inside, and he set his soul against it. Hope was his only ally here. Stephen's hands came up to cast the Circle of the Seraphim for protection, but before he could complete it the fear dimension yanked him inside.


	17. Chapter 17

Emily woke up alone. The side of the bed where Stephen usually slept was cold. She forced herself to peel off her covers and sat up, wondering where he might be. It was still early, barely past sunrise if the amount of light peeking through the curtains was any indication. Maybe Stephen had been forced to leave due to some supernatural crisis while she'd been blissfully unconscious.

She took her time showering, hoping that when she exited she might be greeted to the familiarity of Stephen's easy smile and the all-knowing glint in his eyes. But when she opened the door she found herself alone. Emily dressed and went to find Wong.

Construction had finished last week, and the silence wrapped itself around the Sanctum like a shroud. Emily felt almost guilty as her footsteps echoed through its giant halls and hushed, ancient rooms. She didn't want to wake Wong to ask about Stephen's whereabouts like some sort of love-struck schoolgirl, but she also couldn't stop the anxious thoughts from flitting through her mind.

Coffee. She needed coffee.

The Cloak of Levitation met Emily at the top of the steps leading to the first floor. Its normally excitable fabric was now perfectly still.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Stephen is, would you?" Emily no longer felt foolish for treating the magically cloak like a person, or speaking to it as if it could answer.

The cloak bowed its head. Emily had no idea what that meant.

"Emily?" A gravelly female voice shouted up at her.

Emily slipped past the cloak to see Jessica Jones at the bottom of the stairs. Her tension grew when she noticed the normally testy P.I. actually looked contrite, almost apologetic.

Wong stood beside Jessica. Neither of them was smiling.

Emily raced down the steps. "What's going on? Where's Stephen?"

Wong lowered his head and shuffled to the right. Jessica glanced over at him, then sighed. A grim expression settled on the P.I.'s face. "Stephen is gone," Jessica said.

Emily felt her heart seize inside her chest. "Is he dead?"

"No," Wong said. "But he's outside of our dimension. And we don't know how long he'll be trapped there."

"What happened?" Emily whispered.

Jessica gave Emily the condensed version of their trek to find David Warkinski and of the fear lord they'd encountered. As Emily listened, equal parts remorse and anger rose up inside of her. If it hadn't been for her, Stephen would still be here. He had tracked down David Warkinski for her, to keep her safe. It was irrational to blame herself, she knew, but the emotion twisted inside her mind all the same.

"So, what happens now?" Emily asked.

Wong sighed. "Time and space are twisted inside the fear dimension. Stephen could be back in five minutes… or five months. We can't know for sure."

 _"Five months?"_  Emily shook. "He could be trapped for  _five months?"_

Wong placed a hand on her shoulder in an awkward display of comfort. "We'll make sure you're safe."

Emily shrugged him off. "I don't care about  _me_. I care about him!"

Jessica watched the exchange without a word until now. "Stephen can take care of himself. And since he saved my ass, I'm going to make sure you're safe."

Emily arched a dubious eyebrow at Jessica.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I'd rather not have to babysit you either, but that David Warkinski guy made it pretty clear you might be in trouble."

Emily had to fight to keep her anger in check. "In trouble from who?"

"Your client."

"Brian, you mean."

"No, his kid. The kid paid for that David guy to follow you  _after_  you survived the party."

Emily felt like the world had turned upside down. None of this made sense. "Doesn't his father know what Stilton's is doing? He must."

Jessica shrugged. "No clue. All I know is you'll be taking me with you to work." She grinned. "And I've been wanting to see the inside of Chao and Benowitz for a while now."

That day, Jessica got her wish. Emily trudged through her day with the P.I. glued to her side like a surly teenager tethered to a leash. But Emily had to give Jessica credit: her reputation proceeded her. No one in Chao and Benowitz bothered her while Jessica was with her. Even Linda stayed away. At the end of the day, the duo entered Emily's office. Jessica collapsed in an office chair with a sigh.

"Aren't you done working yet?" she asked.

"Not yet." Emily dug out Malcolm's business card and dialed his cell. "I have to make a phone call."

Jessica didn't leave. She simply placed her feet up on Emily's desk and scrolled through her own phone.

Emily grit her teeth as she dialed Malcolm's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Hi Malcolm. It's Emily Graham."

At the sound of Malcolm's name, Jessica grunted but otherwise said nothing.

"Hey Emily." Malcolm sounded happy to hear from her. "I got the info on the flame thrower guy, for lack of a better term." He gave a little laugh. "His name is Simon Lasker, and he was apparently out of it for the last few days."

"Simon Lasker, you said?" Emily wrote down the name while Malcolm continued.

"Yeah. When I showed up at his place, he had no idea what the hell I was talking about. He says he doesn't remember trying to hurt anyone at Brian's party, but he confessed it had to be him. He even set one of his hands on fire to show me."

"My God… were you in danger?"

"Nah, I think he's harmless. For what it's worth, he sounded ashamed. He has no memory of attacking anyone. The last thing he remembers was showing up for work at the Lawrence party and running into some teenage kid…"

"Did you say a teenaged kid?" Emily felt her stomach drop as Jessica's head snapped around to stare at her. Had Stilton used his powers to make this guy try and kill her just for kicks? "I want his address."

"You got it."

She ended the call, and looked up at the thoughtful P.I. staring at the address she'd just written down.

"I'm coming with you," Jessica said.

#

Simon Lasker lived on Staten Island, in a sad-looking duplex with peeling yellow paint and an overflowing bin on the curb outside of his house. It took Emily and Jessica a good hour to locate his place. After sneaking away from the office to get there, Jessica wasn't in the best of moods. The P.I. banged on Simon's door with a closed fist.

A shuffling of locks, and a man in his twenties answered the door. Emily inhaled sharply when she saw him. He was the same server from Brian's party, only his piercing, violent eyes had now been replaced by dark circles and bottomless regrets.

"I remember you," the man said. His voice was gruff and uneven. "I'm sorry I tried to hurt you. I didn't want to."

"So, you lied to Malcolm." Jessica shook her head with a snort of laughter. "It figures."

The man glared at her. "What the hell was I supposed to do? It wasn't my fault!" The man took a calming breath and stood there, sizing them up. "You both working with that guy?"

"Yes," Emily said when Jessica didn't reply. "He's my P.I. Are you Simon Lasker?"

The man hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"Can we come in?" Jessica asked. She pushed forward.

Simon inched the door closer to his body. "Best if you don't. It's a mess in there."

"Well, since you've seemed to  _miraculously_  regained your memory," Jessica snapped, "what can you tell me about the night of Brian's party?" She was in full P.I. mode now, and Emily allowed her to take charge.

"I don't remember much," Simon admitted. "Just going into work, checking in with my boss. I carried some trays and went back to go on break once Brian Lawrence started talking on the stage. Never got to smoke though. Ran into a kid who told me I couldn't smoke on the terrace, and then… I changed somehow."

"Changed?" Jessica said.

"Yeah. All I wanted was to kill some woman named Emily Graham. Her name kept repeating in my head, over and over again like one of those old records getting stuck in a groove, you know?"

Simon nodded at Emily. "I knew it was you once Brian said your name and told you to come up. And I'm sorry. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't control myself."

"Mind control," Jessica said. She glanced over at Emily. "Can that Lawrence kid manipulate people's minds?"

"Yes," Emily whispered. Just to be sure, she pulled out her phone. Her hands trembled as she fumbled through Instagram to find Stilton's account, one of the many her team used to frame him as a normal, kind-hearted teen. She showed a picture of him to Simon. "This is him, right?"

Simon went from pale to almost red with anger. "Yeah, that's the kid. I'd stay away from him if I were you."

"I can't. He's technically my boss."

"Say what?" Simon looked at her askance.

Emily sighed. "I'm his lawyer…"

Simon cut her off. "Do you know what it's like to be forced to do something against your will? To try and hurt someone, and not be able to stop yourself?" He sneered at the look on her face. "Yeah, I'll bet you don't. I almost killed you, lady. If I were you, I'd tell him to get a new lawyer. I'd walk away, far away, and never look back."

"Where were you over the last week?" Emily asked.

"No idea. After you escaped, everything went blank. I woke up on my couch two days ago. No idea how I got here."

"Bullshit," Jessica said.

Simon shrugged. "It's the truth. Now, unless you girls want to call the cops, I suggest you get the hell out of here."

Simon Lasker didn't shut the door in their faces, but he came close. And Emily could've sworn she saw someone lurking in the shadows before it closed.


	18. Chapter 18

Of all the dimensions in the multiverse, the fear dimension was Stephen's least favorite. And that was saying something.

Stephen tried to find David Warkinski as soon as he'd entered, but it was no use. He could hear David's screams, but space and time could be controlled and manipulated at will by the fear lords here, and the last thing they wanted was to have a food source leave their home. Stephen heard David's terrified cries for a few seconds before they disappeared.

Stephen formed a Seraphim Shield in front of him and centered his emotions. If the fear lords read his mind and found anything they could use, if he felt any fear at all in this place, he was done for. "Show yourself, fear lord."

A shimmer twisted the darkness. An inter-dimensional gateway opened, and the same fear lord Stephen had seen inside Cheng Consulting crept up to him.

"Sorcerer of the Mystics Arts." The grotesque beast in front of him bowed, and Stephen had no idea if it was a gesture of respect or mockery. "Welcome."

"It's  _M_ _aster_  of the Mystic Arts, dickhead. And I suppose I couldn't bargain for David's life back?"

The fear lord smiled, showing his feral teeth. "The human male? Only if you're trading your life for his."

"I doubt you'd get much sustenance on my fear."

"Then we have nothing left to discuss. I do hope you enjoy your visit, sorcerer. Finding your way back home may prove to be… difficult."

Before the fear lord could teleport away, Stephen whipped Eldritch magic around his throat and pelvis.

The fear lord sneered inside the trap but didn't move.

"Burns, doesn't it?"

"Are you trying to anger me, sorcerer?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Talking is tedious."

Stephen tightened the whips. "A human woman is being targeted on my planet."

"I know nothing of a human woman in our plans."

The Eldritch binding glowed brighter, its light creating a brightness that made the fear lord close his eyes with a hiss. He let out a shriek, and Stephen hoped it was in response to the pain of the pure magic as opposed to a cry for help. The last thing he needed were more fear lords coming to their compatriot's aid. "Try again."

The fear lord glared at him. "What magic holds me? Name it."

"Nice try. If I give up the origin of my magic, you could use that knowledge to break the spells."

The fear lord nodded. "Very good, sorcerer. Perhaps you might tell me  _your_  name?"

Stephen also knew better than to give his name. Words had a power all their own, spells and names given freely even more so. The last thing Stephen wanted was to forfeit any advantage inside this dimension. "Why don't you give me yours instead?"

A grin on the fear lord's face. "You are no fool."

"Thank you for noticing. Now, a human woman is being targeted by the fear lords. I want to know why."

"What's her name?"

Stephen debated with himself, struggling with which was the lesser of the two evils. If he gave this fear lord Emily's name, it was possible the lord could then take that knowledge back onto Earth and use it against her. But it was also possible that narrowing down the humans involved in the fear lord's plans could yield far more information than the two of them postulating for all of time.

And time was passing quickly outside of this dimension, probably at a far faster rate than Stephen would like.

"Emily," he finally said.

The fear lord cocked his head to the side. It was one of the few bodily movements still available to him. "Emily Graham."

So they already knew her name then. He wasn't sure if that was good news or bad.

"She will die. There are no alternatives."

There were two pieces of that riddle Stephen needed focus on: the part where Emily needed to die, and the  _us_ admission of the multiple fear lords who were plotting it. He had to choose quickly. "How many of you are there?"

"Six lords for six lords."

He mentally wrestled with that sentence for a moment, then its meaning dawned on him. "Six members of the Illuminati. Six fear lords to counter."

The fear lord nodded. "Just so."

"Why?"

The lord cocked his head again. "Six is the number of perfection, yes?"

Six was a perfect number, with the same sum being reached whether one, two, and three were added or multiplied together. Many litanies and prophecies revolved around the number six for that exact reason. "It is."

"We strive for perfection," the fear lord said.

"How noble of you. But why strive for it on Earth? There are thousands of worlds inside thousands of dimensions waiting to be conquered."

"Earth is where our next battle will be fought. Fear flows freely on your planet. Faith in everything is dying, and where once humans had hope they now know only cynicism and grief. It is ripe for our feasting."

"But why Emily? Why would she need to die?"

"All battles need a pawn to set the game in motion."

"And a certain fear lord needs to be wiped from existence if he keeps speaking in riddles." Stephen formed a glowing Sphere of the Seraphim inside his hand. "Are you familiar with the angels, fear lord?"

The fear lord hissed. "The seraphim are powerful, yes."

"Creatures of power and love, without fear and filled with hope." Stephen floated the sphere within an inch of the fear lord in front of him. "Tell me… what would happen if this sphere touches you?"

The fear lord recoiled from the bindings, but he couldn't get away from the sphere.

"Do you think the other lords might feast on your fear?" Stephen asked.

A blast from behind hit Stephen in the back. He groaned, and his magic dissipated. When he turned to see who or what had hit him, any hope of escape collapsed as fast as his Seraphim Sphere had. Three fear lords stood in front of him. No two were the same, and each was more terrifying than the last.

"Welcome back, Master of the Mystics Arts." The tallest of the trio floated toward Stephen. Her tone was unmistakable feminine. "How wonderful of you to come. I do love playing with guests who can fight back."

Stephen kept his voice devoid of emotion. "There are supposed to be six of you. Where are the other two?"

The tall fear lord shook her head. "Though not too intelligent, I'm afraid."

Stephen processed her words. If four fear lords were here, then the other two had to be back on Earth. And one was with Stilton Lawrence, if the last words of David were true. So, where was the sixth one? Was it still with the man who could control fire, deep under the X-mansion? Or had it moved on to someone else?

With an impossibly long finger, the tallest fear lord pointed at Stephen.

The dimension he stood in vanished. In its place was his old apartment in downtown Manhattan. It was practically empty. The only expensive items remaining were some pieces of furniture, his piano, and his laptop laying on the floor along with scattered pieces of paper. Stephen pivoted his head around and saw his glass display case devoid of everything but his diplomas, books, and the numerous medical awards no one had wanted when he had been desperate for money.

He glanced down at his clothes. Dirty pants and an old T-shirt covered by a black robe had replaced his sorcerer's attire. He held up his hands. The scars were still fresh. His hands shook uncontrollably.

A key in the lock of his door forced him out of his shock. Christine Palmer waltzed in, her left hand heavy with a paper bag carrying food from a local shop.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting. Then she took in the mess and sighed. "He won't do it."

Stephen remembered this day well. The fear lords had conjured it from his past. This was the day he had lost all hope in recovering from his accident, the night he'd pushed his long-time friend and once lover Christine Palmer away. The day he had realized he was useless.

Did the fear lords know all of this, or was it simple conjecture on their part? Fear lords could bend time inside their dimension, making it easy to access the memories of their prey. He hoped that was the extent of their powers.

Stephen shook his head. "It's fine. I don't need to be a neurosurgeon to have purpose. I can do much more with my life."

He was speaking off script now, making up words of hope to counter their spell. In theory, it should have freed him from this illusion. But it didn't.

"Can you though?" Christine's grin was mocking. She dropped her bag on the floor. The wine bottle rolled out. A Malbec, Stephen noted. He'd taught Christine how to pair wines with food in the limited time they'd been together. Christine ignored the mess she'd made, a mannerism so unlike her Stephen almost smiled, and ambled toward him. "You will be  _worthless_  without your hands."

So, the fear lords had read his past fully then. A tinge of fear rose up in his chest. He pushed it back.

"This isn't real," he said.

Christine came close enough to stroke his cheek.  _"You are useless."_

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You'll have to do better than that. Riffling through my history to find my greatest fears won't work on me." He was glad he sounded far more confident than he actually felt.

The world of his apartment in Manhattan vanished. Stephen swallowed a sigh of relief. Thank God these creatures couldn't read minds, or he'd be done for.

"This human is stronger than the others." The original fear lord who Stephen had ensnared with magic showed his razor teeth as he spoke.

The tall lord nodded. "Sorcerers always are," she said.

The fanged fear lord appeared disappointed. "He'll end up like the last one, will he not?"

Another of the fear lord trio whispered in the back. "I hunger."

Another scene from Stephen's past rooted itself inside his consciousness, this one from the day the Ancient One had died. He saw her lifeless body on the operating table, observed her monitor as it flickered, and once again dove into his Astral Form to meet her on that balcony to watch the snow. The words they had exchanged there had changed his life.

Only this time she wasn't there waiting for him. Instead of spending those last precious moments with his former teacher and friend, they had been stripped away. He was alone with his grief, his sense of failure. The remorse that tore at him felt like a great weights of iron being placed one by one on his chest. It threatened to rip him apart, but it least it wasn't fear.

"She's gone." Stephen shouted to the night sky. "And I have nothing to fear in taking her place."

The scene dissolved, and the fear lords stood before him yet again. It could be his imagination, but he swore they looked disappointed.

The tall fear lord turned to the others. "We will have billions soon," she said. "One pawn strategically killed, and all powerful pieces become vulnerable."

Stephen hid his reaction to those words as he turned to face her. "Do you like chess?"

The tall one nodded. "It is one of your planet's better strategic games, pathetic as it may be…"

"How about a game?" Stephen offered. "For my planet."

"You must think us great fools to allow the fate of one tedious game to alter our plans."

"Fine. How about a game for Emily's life then?"

Stephen couldn't read the fear lord's face. She could be considering his offer or planning her next vacation through various dimensions. All he knew was that time always seemed to move at a frantic pace outside of this dimension, and if he didn't hurry it would be too late.

"No." The fear lord waved a long arm, and everyone vanished except Stephen and her. "But I will allow you to play for yours."

The dimension grew smaller. A deep inky blackness covered them so that Stephen couldn't see where he was. His feet felt like they stood on a solid surface, but when he glanced down, all he could see was darkness.

The fear lord opened her palms. A large table with a familiar checkboard pattern appeared in front of them, only this board looked like it had been made with shimmering liquids. The squares alternated with a clear, water-like fluid and a deep garnet one that barely moved. Stephen touched one of the dark red spaces, and he finger came back covered in blood.

"Blood and tears." The fear lord said. "Collected from your world."

He hid his grimace. "Charming."

The fear lord smiled, and Stephen wondered if she understood his sarcasm or was reacting to his comment with genuine amusement.

"What's your name?" Stephen asked.

Another smile, but no reply.

Stephen sighed. It had been worth a try.

The fear lord made some kind of clicking sound, and the board became alive with chess pieces. Each piece had jagged edges and looked sharp enough to pierce skin. One set of pieces was a dull white while the other was a rusty brown.

"Let me guess," Stephen said. "The pieces are made of human bones?"

The fear lord nodded. "Just so."

"Predictable." Stephen sighed. "Okay, let's do this."

"You are our guest." The fear lord raised her hands, and the white pieces appeared in front of Stephen. "Begin."

Stephen loved chess, and during a solid match with an opponent whose intellect challenged his own the game could take hours to play. He didn't have the time to mull carefully over each move here, not when the Earth and Emily were in danger. But he also couldn't afford to lose.

He slid the king's pawn two spaces forward, giving him control of the center of the board.

The fear lord countered with her queen's knight, putting his pawn in jeopardy.

Stephen moved his queen's knight into place to protect his pawn. If the fear lord took his pawn now, then she would lose her knight.

The game continued. The first piece Stephen lost was a pawn. As soon as the fear lord took it, a sharp stabbing pain pierced his heart. He gasped and glared up at the fear lord.

She smiled. "Each time you lose a piece, you shall feel the pain of the blood and tears from Earth."

On and on it went. He would gain ground, but the fear lord would manage to make critical sacrifices, negating his advantage. And every time he lost a chessman, the pain the fear lords had captured from Earth and placed inside that chess piece created visceral agony inside of him.

Finally, Stephen saw a way to win. He moved his queen to check, and the fear lord took the bait. He doubled over in pain as his queen was taken. The fear lord smiled to see him in pain.

Stephen countered her. Two moves now… One…

"Checkmate," Stephen said.

The fear lord hissed.

"Now, get me the hell out of here."

The fear lord shook with anger. Her gangly arms swirled above her head. She was about to use magic, and Stephen could tell it wouldn't be a peaceful spell to open a gateway and let him go.

Stephen attacked first. He launched a Seraphim bolt right at her.

The fear lord pivoted, but the bolt ripped through the edge of the fear dimension. A tear opened. Stephen fell through. He forced determination to override his fear as he invoked the power of the Munnopor. If his spell worked, this torn dimension would form a seal behind him and create a gateway to return back to Earth.

Stephen went through, yet he didn't stop falling. The fear dimension disappeared behind him, and Stephen could only hope he would appear somewhere in time and back on Earth.


	19. Chapter 19

"All rise."

At the words of the bailiff, Emily stood with her defense team as Judge Albright took her seat in front of the New York District Court.

"Be seated."

Everyone sat. Emily glanced over at her colleagues sitting to her right. Foggy and Megan shuffled their notes. Sober expressions graced their faces. Further down, on the opposite side of the courtroom, the district attorney and his staff relaxed in their seats. The prosecution had rested their case yesterday. As if feeling Emily's gaze on him, the D.A. turned and met her eyes. He nodded to her.

The gallery behind the D.A. bench held the family and friends of Derrick Johnson. On the defense side sat Brian Lawrence and everyone rooting for Stilton's innocence. Linda Chao sat with them. But Emily saw no friendly faces in her corner.

It had been almost a month since Emily had seen Stephen. She still lived at the Sanctum, but she didn't feel comfortable being inside his bedroom, not without him there. Every night after saying goodnight to Wong, she lay awake inside her guest room, telling herself Stephen was still alive somewhere outside of her reality. When insomnia kept her from sleep, she would walk the hallways. And every time she walked, she found herself stopping outside of Stephen's bedroom to look at the disheveled bed sheets, the chasm of emptiness inside his room.

As the weeks passed, Emily had tried repeatedly to remove herself from Stilton's defense team. But every time Linda had forbidden it, telling Emily she would not only be fired from the firm but would never to work as an attorney in Manhattan again once Linda was finished with her.

Emily believed her.

So, she continued working on Stilton's case, assuaging her fear of the supernatural with the knowledge she was firmly rooted to this reality, helping her client. She would occasionally see little things she couldn't explain, but the cloak was always with her. And, so far, nothing had happened.

"Defense." Judge Albright nodded to Emily and her team. "You may call your first witness."

This was where most defense attorneys would call in their expert witnesses first. They'd create a mountain of reasonable doubt before placing their star witness on the stand. The Lawrences, however, had insisted on changing the rules. For this trial, the experts would come last.

Foggy stood to his feet. "Defense calls Stilton Lawrence to the stand."

There was a collective gasp from the gallery behind them. Emily turned to gauge the reactions of their audience. A glance at the spectators could tell her so much.

Stephen sat in the center row.

Time froze as they locked gazes. Emily couldn't keep the elation from her face. She'd never been so happy to see a human being in her life. Stephen was alive.  _Alive_. And he was here.

He didn't return her smile.

The cloak, disguised as a women's blazer today, gave a slight ripple at seeing its master. Emily hoped it wouldn't fly off of her and onto Stephen. Wouldn't that be a sight for the jury?

Stephen reached for his cell phone but maintained eye contact with her. Days-old stubble covered his face. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were filled with steely determination. His gaze flickered from his phone to Stilton rising to take the witness stand, then back to her again.

From inside her pocket, Emily's phone began to buzz. Loudly.

Foggy frowned over his shoulder at the disruption. Emily fumbled with her phone. The text was from Stephen.

_"Take off the cloak. Get as close to Stilton as you can. Now."_

She read through Stephen's text twice, and still didn't believe it. After being warned repeatedly to stay away from Stilton, after having the cloak guarding her, Stephen wanted her to get closer? And without any protection? Why?

She glanced back at Stephen for confirmation.

He nodded.

"Foggy?" Emily said.

Her voice echoed through the courtroom. Emily shrugged out of her blazer and placed it gently on the back of her chair. The room was already quiet, but now it went dead silent.

She took a deep breath. "I'll be doing the cross-examination."

Confused looks rippled through the faces of the defense team. From directly behind her team in the gallery, Linda's cold stare was ice cold. Brian's face, on the other hand, showed pure befuddlement.

Foggy marched back to their bench. The curious smile he'd kept on his face dropped like the mask that it was as he spoke. "What the hell are you doing, Emily?" he whispered. "I'm supposed to cross-examine Stilton."

"I know. But I've memorized the questions as well as you have. And I have a hunch."

Foggy sucked in a breath and glanced around him. His hands holding the team's notes started to shake. Emily couldn't tell if the tremors were due to embarrassment or anger. "This isn't the plan."

Emily placed her hand on his. "Please Foggy. I need you to trust me."

Judge Albright cleared her throat. Loudly. "Whenever the defense is ready."

Foggy and Emily glanced over at the judge, then at one another. Emily had no idea why Stephen wanted her to be close to Stilton, but this was the only way she could do it.

Foggy sighed, relenting. He handed her the notes. "Go for it."

Inside the files Xavier had given her weeks ago, Emily remembered the notes Stephen had written about Stilton's powers, about the possibility of the boy being controlled from another dimension in addition to what Stilton was capable of doing on his own. And now she was about to walk right up to him and make him very uncomfortable.

Emily took a deep breath. "Forgive the delay, Your Honor."

She took her time walking up to Stilton. When she reached the witness stand, she risked a quick glance behind her. Linda and Brian's faces were now twin undercurrents of apprehension.

Emily turned her full attention to Stilton and began. "Stilton Lawrence, you're on trial for the murder of Derrick Johnson…"

This is where she would begin a litany of questions, all of them carefully worded to showcase the events leading up to Derrick's tragic death. All of them designed to hopefully prove his innocence.

But Emily never got a chance to ask them. Stilton Lawrence stood to his feet. His hands landed palm up on the top of the witness stand. His body shivered, and his eyes went dark.  _"Make it stop."_

Murmurs flowed through the courtroom like a wave.

"Stilton?" Emily moved closer. "What's wrong?"

Tears fell from Stilton's eyes. He scrubbed them away. "It's  _inside_  of me. I can't make it go away…"

The muttering in the courtroom became louder. From behind her, Emily could hear Foggy's voice but couldn't make out what he was saying.

Judge Albright asked for counsel to approach her bench.

An attorney for each side stood to approach. They didn't make it.

Stilton threw back his head and let out an other-worldly scream. It vibrated through the courtroom, its pitch unnatural and far too high to have come from anyone human, much less a teenage boy. Emily covered her ears.

Controlled chaos rippled through the courtroom. Judge Albright went still. The lawyers approaching the bench halted. The fear flowing through the room was so thick Emily could almost taste it. Panic flashed across the faces of the jurors. One of them tried to rise from his seat but found himself falling back down again. Spectators stood to rush from the gallery, but they found themselves freezing in mid-stride. Stephen, however, didn't move.

The screams kept going. Emily reached out to touch Stilton's hand. Her eyes were hard, unyielding. "Stilton….  _Stop."_

As soon as her hand touched his, Stilton's eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed into unconsciousness.

In that moment, it seemed to Emily that the world spun around her while she remained still. The people inside the courtroom shook their heads as if to clear them. The gallery became a rank and file of spectators scurrying out of the door. The frozen terror that had existed just moments before was gone, replaced by an urgency to get out of that room.

Stilton lay across the witness stand, still unconscious.

Judge Albright banged her gavel, commanding order insider her courtroom. "We'll reconvene tomorrow morning at 9AM. Bailiff, call an ambulance for the defendant," she ordered. "Now."

The bailiff nodded and left.

Emily reached over the witness stand to where the top half of Stilton's body rested against the wooden barrier. Linda and Brian were by her side in the space a heartbeat.

"He's breathing," Emily said.

"What happened?" Brian tried to get closer to his son.

"I don't know," Emily admitted.

Linda lashed out. "This was  _not_  the plan." She sounded enraged. For the life of her, Emily couldn't understand why.

"He's had some kind of seizure or something," Emily said. "I fail to see how any of this is my fault."

Brian said nothing. He stroked his son's head as paramedics rushed into the room. It took both of the paramedics to pry Stilton out of the witness stand. Stilton's face looked peaceful as he was lifted on to a gurney.

The paramedics had an unobstructed walk to the doors. Brian stayed with his son and didn't look back. Linda and Emily watched them go.

"Emily…" Linda gripped her arm. Her voice hissed with rage. "You're fired."

"What? Why?"

"For a pattern of behavior unbecoming to both a partner and to our firm."

A part of her wanted to scream in protest. Whatever had happened just now with Stilton hadn't been her fault. But as she studied Linda's face, she saw something inside of her boss's eyes… the same darkness that she'd seen inside Stilton's only moments ago. It was contained, but barely. Could the same dimensional power that held Stilton hostage now control her boss? Emily felt her insides grow cold, like ice water trickling through her veins.

Linda continued. "If you come back into the office during business hours, I'll arrest you for trespassing."

"How do you expect me to get my things?"

"I'm sure your personal sorcerer will figure it out. I'm not sure who I blame more for today: him or you."

Linda pivoted on her heel and left the courtroom. As soon as she was gone, Emily felt light-headed.

The courtroom continued emptying out. The jurors were gone. Most of the gallery was deserted. Foggy and Megan waited for Emily behind the defendant's bench. Both of them wore stunned expressions on their faces. The three lawyers gathered their attaché cases and stuff their notes inside of them.

Emily gave everything she had to her former colleagues. "I guess you all heard what Linda said."

Megan nodded. "It's total bullshit."

"I don't know what the hell just happened," Foggy said. "But I do know it wasn't your fault. Don't worry, Emily. I've got friends that can help you out."

"Thanks Foggy."

Emily followed them to the exit where Stephen waited. Foggy and Megan walked out, shaking their heads and conspiring under their breaths about how the trial would go tomorrow. The courtroom was completely empty now, like a silent crypt.

Emily turned to Stephen. "I swear I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did. You saved Stilton from being controlled by one of the two fear lords seeking to devour this planet. He would have killed someone, Emily. And you stopped it from happening."

"But  _how?_  All I did was…"

"Get close enough to the fear lord to take away his power." Stephen's face reflected an internal exhaustion but he managed a smile. "Somehow, your being close to inter-dimensional magic negates it. It happened with the enchanted drawer in my study, and it happened when a fear lord tried to use Stilton's powers to turn this courtroom into a slaughterhouse. That's why they wanted you dead. Once you set your mind to get past the powers in motion around you, you become an agent of change."

Emily shook her head. "But I'm… nobody."

"Not true at all. You are somebody very special." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Come on. Let's go home."

Home. Emily had never heard such a beautiful word in her life.

"Will you tell me everything?" she asked. "Everything you've seen about my future? I know you were afraid of me changing things, but at this point I feel like I need to know."

He hesitated for a long time. Then he graced her with a sad smile. "Tomorrow." His eyes held a mountain of pain and sadness, and Emily had no idea why. It's as if he were holding back tears. "I'll tell you everything that happened to me, and what it all means, tomorrow."


	20. Chapter 20

Emily tossed and turned on Stephen's bed, but sleep refused to come. All she could see when she closed her eyes was Stilton's helplessness before he collapsed. The terror from inside that courtroom had been so thick that the foulness of it still lingered in her soul hours later. Stephen had told her she'd saved lives today. She still didn't quite believe it.

She had no idea why the fear lord possessing Stilton hadn't been able to influence her the way it had the others. And whenever she'd pressed the issue, Stephen would gaze at her sadly and say he would "tell her tomorrow."

Well, it was tomorrow, if the clock inside Stephen's room was to be believed. Unfortunately, she didn't have the heart to wake him.

Stephen slept like the dead tonight, his heavy forearm resting along the curve of her naked waist. It had been quite the reunion. She smiled at the memory. It was the one good thing to come out of the chaos of her day.

After the trial, Stephen had escorted her back to her office, but Linda must have called security in anticipation for her arrival. Emily had not been allowed inside. The apologetic security officer explained her belongings would be packed up and left at the front for her to retrieve sometime after regular business hours, but that if she stepped foot inside Chao and Benowitz before then, the senior partners would consider it trespassing. Emily had suppressed tears of anger as she'd walked away, too mentally exhausted to put up a fight.

And now, here she was, finally able to curl up and sleep in Stephen's arms, but she was too wound up to do it. Frustrated, Emily lifted back the covers and picked up her phone.

The display on her screen lit up the room. It was 12:15PM now, but even at this late hour someone would be at Chao and Benowitz. If her personal belongings weren't with security on the ground floor, they would be waiting near the receptionist's desk. The cleaning crew wouldn't mind her being there as long as security let her in. And tonight would be last time she'd step foot inside Chao and Benowitz again.

She got up and dressed carefully as Stephen still slept. She didn't want to wake him, not after everything he'd been through. He had told her small details about the fear dimension, but she knew it had covered only a fraction of his time there. The majority of his story he had protected from her. She loved him for that.

Emily searched the Sanctum to see if Wong was here and possibly awake. The bedrooms lay empty, as did the kitchen. She was alone. Emily sighed and made the decision to call an Uber for her trip to the office. As she waited she kept hoping for a sound from somewhere inside the Sanctum that might signify a sorcerer was awake and able to expedite her journey, but everyone stayed asleep.

When the car arrived, she waited inside the Sanctum until the last possible minute before darting outside to the waiting car. Even though Stephen was now back, and she wasn't sure if she was in any danger, old habits died hard. The driver gave her a funny look when she slammed her door. He shook his head and proceeded into downtown.

The bright lights to the entrance of Chao and Benowitz illuminated the sidewalk and patio outside. It felt almost friendly, seeing the welcoming florescent lighting. A blast of air-conditioning greeted her as she pushed open the front door.

"Emily," The guard on duty stood up with a confused smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi Frank. I'm here to pick up my things. Did anyone drop off a box or two down here?"

The guard gazed around his desk in confusion. "I haven't seen anything."

"It might be upstairs at reception then. Do you need me to sign in?"

"Uh…." He shot a glance at the elevator, then back at Emily. "I'm not sure Linda…"

Emily wouldn't let him finish. Screw Linda. "It's fine. I'll only be a minute." She scribbled her name on the clipboard and gave Frank a quick wave before heading to the elevator.

When the elevator doors opened to the reception area of Chao and Benowitz, Emily found the usual midnight pattern. The cleaning crew was in the back, vacuuming inside one of the private offices. She found the familiar hum of the vacuum both comforting and melancholy, a reminder of all the times when she would toil late into the night working on a fresh case.

She checked behind the reception desk but couldn't find any evidence that Linda had placed her personal effects there for her to pick-up. Grumbling under her breath, she made her way down the hall to her office, praying the door wasn't locked.

She turned the knob. It opened. Emily smiled as she pushed her way inside.

Emily stopped dead at the threshold. Brian Lawrence sat hunched over in her chair. His face lit up when she entered.

"Emily." He stood and held out his hand with a smile.

She was too stunned to shake his hand. "Brian. What are you doing here?"

"Linda said you'd probably be back sometime tonight to pick up your things." He pointed to a cardboard box waiting atop her desk. "Of course, I didn't imagine you'd be coming here this late."

Emily shook her head and headed for her desk. "How is Stilton?"

"He's much better now, thank you for asking."

Brian's words were devoid of any emotion as he spoke about his son. It made Emily's skin crawl. "Well, I'll just grab my things and be on my way."

The sound of the vacuum grew louder as the cleaning crew made their way from the back offices to focus their efforts on a nearby hallway. Even though they were closer to her now, Emily knew from experience that the crew wore headphones as they worked. She'd occasionally hear the refrains of music over the noise when she'd go to grab a late night coffee in the lounge.

Emily's fingers slipped over the box as she strained to pick it up. "Well, I should be going."

Before she could turn around, Brian was next to her.

Something was wrong. Something primal inside her told her to drop her things, to get out right away, but her analytical mind forced her to see reason. Brian wouldn't hurt her, not with witnesses nearby. Emily found herself frozen, rooting to the spot with indecision.

"I want you to know Emily… I don't blame you for what happened to Stilton today."

Emily's mouth was dry. She swallowed and tried to force herself to appear normal. "I appreciate that."

"My son is very disturbed, and he needs help." Brian moved closer. "I had no idea he was responsible for that attack at my party last month. Not until today when a man who was a server that night decided to sue us for emotional pain and suffering." Brian shook her head with a soft laugh. "An inhuman freak, trying to blackmail me with a lawsuit… can you believe it?"

"I… I don't know anything about that." Emily remembered meeting Simon with Jessica Jones, but she kept her face impassive. Brian studied her before continuing.

"In any case, that won't be happening. I won't let the Lawrence name be dragged through the mud. Not again."

"Good for you. Now, I really need to leave." Emily lifted the box and turned toward the door.

Brian blocked her way. "Do you know how special you are, Emily?"

She didn't even attempt to continue their conversation now. She was trapped, could tell by Brian's body language that he wouldn't let her get out of here without help. Emily screamed, loud enough that even the cleaning crew working at the other end of the office should've heard her.

The vacuuming stopped.

"Help!" Emily screamed again.

Brian didn't seem the least bit concerned about her calling for help. He simply grinned at her.

The office door opened, and a hefty man dressed in cleaning crew scrubs stood at the threshold.

"I want to leave," Emily explained to the man standing at the door. "And Brian Lawrence is preventing me from doing so. If you could call security…"

The cleaning man grinned. "I don't work for you."

Panic rose inside Emily's throat. "No, but you  _do_  work for Chao and Benowitz."

The man's grin widened. "Don't work for them either."

Brian nodded to the man. "Emily, meet a friend of mine. He works for one of my pet hospital projects, and he'll be responsible for making sure you're well cared for during your brief stay with us."

Emily shoved the box with her belongings right at Brian. It knocked him off-balance. She dodged to the door. With one quick kick to the man's groin and a finger stab at his throat, Brian's lackey staggered back. Emily raced out of her office.

She ran for the emergency stairwell. It would be dozens of flights down, and the men might overtake her, but it was too risky to wait for the elevator. Emily pushed on the stairwell door, ready to flee down the steps.

A strong arm snatched her back. Brian slammed her against the wall.

Her vision blurred as she moaned. "You're being controlled by a fear lord, Brian."

Brian Lawrence stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. "I'm not being controlled by anyone, Emily."

"You wouldn't know it if you were." Emily inhaled, hoping her logic might buy her time to think of a way to escape. "Your son is definitely being controlled by one. You're in danger. We all are."

He chuckled. "Is that you answer for everything bad that happens to you?  _Fear_  lords?" He stepped back, still close enough to hit her if he wanted. "It took quite a bit of investigation by Cheng and his team, but the P.I. I hired finally gave me what I needed."

"Which is?"

"Your DNA." He gave her a gentle smile. "I meant what I said about your being attacked at my party. I certainly don't want you dead. Far from it. You were supposed to be honored, and then would disappear, but only for a short time."

From his back pocket, Brian removed a sheet of paper. He unfolded it to reveal a series of numbers and a bar graph that looked like one of those ancestry sheets she'd received years ago doing an online DNA profile about her heritage. "You carry the inhuman gene, Emily. And that makes you far more important to me than just some legal counsel for my son."

"Stilton controlled that man suing you, the one with the fire." Emily blinked back tears of frustration. "You might not want me dead, but your son does."

"Are you still clinging to the whole fear lord idea, or are you saying my son is a mutant?"

Emily wanted to shout the truth at Brian, to tell him about Stilton's mutant abilities and everything she'd learned from Xavier's files, but Stilton was just a kid. Even after everything that had happened, she had an obligation to protect him, especially from someone like his father.

Brian sighed. "Well, if Stilton is a mutant, then he and you will have something in common after tonight."

The man who had blocked her way out of her office was staggering toward her now. Rage seethed on his face. Emily jerked away from Brian, hoping to run, and became instantly dizzy.

"Do you know what I can do with someone like you, Emily?" Brian asked softly.

"No," Emily glared up at him.

"Anything I want," he whispered.

Brian nodded to his underling, and Emily's vision went black.


	21. Chapter 21

Stephen woke up alone in his bed. Emily's aura was gone, but then he had known it would be. He waited until she was somewhere on the first floor before glancing over at the time. It was 12:30AM.

Outside the Sanctum, Stephen heard a car pull up. A door of the vehicle opened, then closed, and the metallic sound echoed across the stillness outside. He stared at the ceiling as he felt Emily dart inside her Uber. The car drove away, and she was gone.

He waited in bed, unable to sleep until close to 1:30AM when he finally sat up. He put his face in his hands and allowed the tears to fall for what was about to happen to his lover, his friend. The grief ripped through him like a tsunami. He let it drown him, washing away the doubts he'd had from the moment he'd saved her life in that explosion. He had wanted to push her away that fateful day, had tried to push her away, but instead had let his feelings win out over self-control. Now the selfishness of his actions ate away at him. It fed his guilt at what he was about to let happen. When his emotions finally steadied, he pulled himself to his feet and got dressed.

Stephen slowly made his way to the first floor. He met Wong on the stairs. The librarian sorcerer must have just gotten back from Kamar Taj. Wong climbed up to greet him, trudging in his own tired cadence.

"I can't wait to get some sleep." Wong muttered. He flashed a jovial grin at Stephen.

Stephen didn't return his mirth.

Wong stopped. He studied Stephen's face, and his good-natural humor died. "What's wrong?"

"Emily's gone."

"Gone?" Wong frowned and followed Stephen back down the stairs to the first floor. "Gone where?"

"She's been taken by Brian Lawrence." Stephen knew his tone sounded matter-of-fact, almost indifferent. But he couldn't let any emotion in. Not now.

Wong grabbed his arm. " _How?_  What happened?"

"She went back to her office to get her personal belongings. Brian was waiting for her."

"How do you know…?"

Stephen shot a look of anguish at Wong. His friend gazed at the floor, nodded.

"What happens now?" Wong asked.

"Now?" Stephen broke eye contact. He didn't know if he had the strength to handle Wong's trepidation, especially when he could barely hold back his own. "Now I hope that the suffering that's about to happen tonight isn't in vain."

Wong might have had more questions, but Stephen couldn't face the barrage. Nor could he ask his friend for help. He turned his back on Wong and opened a gateway into Charles Xavier's office. Stephen stepped through.

The professor's personal workspace was still, bathed in darkness and solitude. Stephen had no idea if Charles was asleep, but he knew conjuring a gateway inside the X-mansion would have certainly set off several telepathic alerts. So, he stood in the silence. And waited.

Jean Grey came in first. The door flew open, her hands bright with her telekinetic power. Stephen held up his hands in a sign of surrender, and she lowered her defenses.

"Stephen?" She walked inside, glancing around her in suspicion, as if expecting a trick. Considering how many beings Stephen had met who could shape-shift, he didn't blame her. "What are you doing here?"

"A friend of mine has been kidnapped. She carries the mutant gene. If Charles is sleeping, could you please wake him? He knows what's about to happen."

Jean gave him another curious look before leaving the room.

Stephen paced the office for a few minutes. It was hard to find the patience waiting for the inevitable. And this wasn't the first time he'd had to stand back and allow events to unfold as they were meant to. Finally, he forced himself to sit in one of the chairs in front of Charles's desk. An antique clock ticked off the seconds from somewhere on the other side of the room. How much longer did Stephen have? And in the end, would it even matter?

"Stephen." Charles Xavier rolled into his office. Both Jean Grey and her husband Scott Summers were right behind him. "I take it this is the night?"

Stephen nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Very well."

Scott Summers stepped away from the professor. His eyes scrutinized Stephen's face. "What's going on?"

Stephen stood to his feet. "A good friend of mine named Emily Graham has been taken against her will by a man named Brian Lawrence. Last week, I discovered that he oversees several facilities that are responsible for the experimentation of humans carrying the mutant gene. Emily has been there for about fifteen minutes now."

Charles's face echoed Stephen's calm, but Scott sucked in a quick breath of alarm.

"I can summon a team," Scott said, quickly taking charge. "Me, Jean, Storm…"

Stephen shook his head. "No. When we go, it will be just you, Charles, and me. And you can stay behind if you would like to."

Scott bristled at that last statement. "Like hell I will!"

"It will be just the three of us," Stephen reiterated. "No one else can come."

"But the larger the team, the greater our chances of getting her back before they can hurt her." Scott turned to the professor. "This doesn't make sense. We always take a team."

Charles studied Stephen's face for a moment. Whatever he saw there made him look down in sorrow. "Do as Stephen says," Charles ordered.

Scott glanced back at Jean. The exchanged quiet mummers before kissing and touching one another's face. As they stood together, physically and emotionally connected, Stephen wondered what secrets they shared in their mutual silence, tucked away inside their own secret world. He looked away.

Jean gave Scott one last farewell peck before leaving. "Good luck," she said.

Charles nodded to her. "Thank you, Jean. You're in charge while I'm gone."

The door to Charles's office closed, but no one spoke. The seconds ticked by, and with each one, Scott Summers shifted his weight in restless anticipation. Stephen watched the X-man's impatience, understood the need for Scott to do something, to act. But Stephen wouldn't echo his restlessness.

After a few minutes, Scott broke the silence. "Why are we still standing here? We need to get moving." He turned to Stephen. "Do you know where we can find this facility?"

"Yes," Stephen said.

"Okay, great!" Scott hurried to the door. "Let's go."

"Not yet."

Scott jerked his head in Stephen's direction. Though Stephen couldn't see Scott's eyes through the visor, he could tell the X-man was becoming agitated. "We shouldn't just be standing around doing nothing. This  _is_  a rescue mission, isn't it?"

Stephen nodded.

"Then, let's get out of here." Scott headed to the door.

"No," Stephen said.

Scott's jaw dropped in astonishment. "I thought this woman was a friend of yours."

Stephen cringed at Scott's tone. He had used the word  _friend_  to describe Emily simply because he hadn't known what term to give her that could encompass everything she had become to him in such a short time. Now, the term felt woefully inadequate. "She is."

"Then why are we waiting?" Scott marched right up to Stephen. "I've read about how people with the X-gene are experimented on. Do you want her to die?"

"She's not going to die."

Scott turned to Charles. "Professor…"

Charles held up his hand. Scott backed down, but Stephen could tell it was only out of trust for his mentor. The room became still.

"It must be difficult," Charles whispered to Stephen in the silence. "Seeing the future and trying to follow a prescribed path."

Stephen nodded. Tears filled his eyes.

"I stopped trying to control events years ago," the professor continued.

Stephen didn't reply.

"You never did tell me why," Charles said. "You told me there would be a night where this would happen, but you never gave me any details. What did you see?"

"Emily can dissolve inter-dimensional spells, can break through any powers if her will is strong enough. Even illusions from the fear lords aren't too much for her within a confined space, but after tonight…" Stephen hung his head. The rest of his words caught in his throat. "This  _has_  to happen. If it doesn't, this world won't be fully protected against what's coming."

Scott cursed. He stepped inside Stephen's personal space and slammed his hand up against Stephen's chest. "We don't just let innocent people get tortured!"

Stephen had had enough. He twisted Scott's hand and shoved him against the nearest wall. "You may protect  _people_ , Scott Summers, but _I_  protect  _worlds_. You think it doesn't  _kill_  me to know what's happening, how much she's going to suffer?" He blinked back his tears. He wasn't about to let the X-man see his doubts, or his pain. "Sometimes people have to suffer for the greater good. We have to wait. We  _will_  wait. And if you don't like it, then go back to bed." He let go.

Scott glanced at the professor and then back at Stephen in turn. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "For how long?"

Stephen didn't trust his voice. When he finally spoke, the words almost caught in his throat. "It won't be long now," he said.


	22. Chapter 22

When Emily awoke, she couldn't move. Her eyes blinked several times as her mind tried to absorb the images she saw. She couldn't make sense of them. Wherever she was, it wasn't Chao and Benowitz.

She lay on her back, unable to move. The ceiling resembled the tired, speckled squares of a school or hospital. The walls were cold and bare. Next to her stood a heart monitor. The rhythmic up and down line and steady beep of the machine made her feel reassured somehow until she realized it was hooked up to her. Emily lifted her hands to push herself upright and found her arms tied down tight.

She ignored the throbbing in her skull and struggled against the bonds holding her. Two sets of straps were buckled around her, one at her wrists and another, smaller one across her chest. Emily gazed down to see if she could undo them and discovered she was trapped on some type of gurney.

From somewhere behind her, a door opened.

"Emily." Brian Lawrence's voice boomed through the room. "Nice to see you're awake."

And it all came back to her: how she had decided to get her things from her office, discovering Brian there, then trying to get away, the attack.

She screamed.

Brian strolled right up to her, undeterred by her shouts. He shook his head. "Screaming really won't do any good here, Emily. No one is going to hear you."

"What the hell are you going to do to me?"

"We're just going to give you an injection. Don't be afraid. Think of it like a vaccine. Once it courses through your system, it will make you much stronger."

The man dressed in the scrubs of the cleaning crew from earlier came to stand behind Brian. In his hand was a tray with a filled syringe, alcohol swabs, and latex gloves.

"It may hurt though," Brian admitted.

Emily swallowed her tears. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I have investors that pay big money to fund these experiments, to take humankind to the next level. You are helping to make our vision a reality, Emily. Think of this experience as a gift."

"I don't want this  _gift_ ," Emily spat.

"It's not a gift for  _you_ ," Brian said. "It's a gift you're  _giving_. Maybe you'll find yourself with super strength. Maybe you'll discover you now have the ability to walk through walls, or manipulate matter. There's so much untapped potential inside of you, just waiting to be birthed."

The man in scrubs pulled on the latex gloves. He opened an alcohol swab and rubbed the cool cloth on Emily's bicep.

"And you get nothing out of this, I suppose?" Emily flexed her arm, fighting against the swab and the man's iron grip.

"I do," Brian said. "Thanks to you and others like you, I'm able to receive loyalty and respect from many influential people, including Congressman Curtis and Senator Franklin, both on the Armed Services Committees in their respective houses of Congress. They are grateful for people like you, Emily. For the data you'll provide us with."

Emily couldn't believe it. All this time, she and Stephen had been convinced Brian only cared about the Superhuman Registration Act. She actually let a bitter laugh escape her throat. "I thought you only cared about that damn registration act."

"Please don't misunderstand me. I do care about registering inhumans. But once that bill is passed into law, we'll be able to monitor all of you so your gifts can be used for the greater good."

The man tossed the used alcohol swab onto the metal tray and picked up the syringe.

Emily jerked her body as far upright as it would go, desperate to get away. Her limbs barely moved. She cried out, stretching against the bonds and attempting to pull away as far as she could.

Brian shook his head. "It will hurt much more if you struggle."

But Emily didn't care. It took both Brian and the man leaning over her body with their weight and holding down her arm for the long needle to puncture her skin. She felt every ounce of the fluid being pumped into her.

Pain seared her veins, like fire rippling through, going from the site of where the needle pierced her and traveling straight to her heart. This time when Emily screamed, she was sure half of Manhattan could hear her.

Brian patted her head again and stepped back. He turned to the man beside him. "That was the lowest dose, yes?"

The man nodded. He removed his gloves and picked up the tray with the now empty syringe.

"Let's see how she does for the next hour before we up the dosage. I want a check on her vitals now and every ten minutes."

In the haze of torment that enveloped Emily, the dialog beside her sounded far way, like someone had left a television show on and forgotten to change the channel. Her throat felt raw. She closed her mouth, and the screaming stopped. The room bathed itself in sudden silence. She moaned.

"Should I let her sleep?" The man speaking to Brian had a voice like gravel.

"No. Remember what happened to the last one?" Brian voice sounded like it was moving farther away. "If she starts to drift off, wake her up immediately and take her vitals."

"You got it, boss."

Emily heard a door open, then close. She thought she was alone until she heard the gravelly voice again.

"How you feeling?" The man asked.

"Fuck you," Emily hissed.

The man chuckled. "You know, I was a medic in the army before coming to work here. Did two tours, one in Afghanistan, one in Iraq. You people have no idea what it means to serve something greater than yourselves. Here you are, born special, able to do something to help your country, and you'd rather go back to your protected little lives." He leaned over her, so close she could smell the stale coffee on his breath. "Ungrateful little bitch."

She squeezed her eyes shut against his words, against the flames pumping through her veins.

Then her heart seized. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Heat gripped her heart, sucking the breath out of her. Her body flailed. When she could finally suck air back inside her lungs, she screamed again.

The man calmly checked the EKG monitor next to her gurney. "Accelerated, but within norms. You're fine, stop screaming."

She closed her eyes. Sleep seemed within easy reach…

The man smacked her cheek, not hard but with enough force to make her eyes open wide in shock.

"No sleeping," he said. "You could fall into a coma. Then you'd only be good for dissecting." He smirked. "And you wouldn't want that."

From somewhere deep inside, Emily tried to find a place of serenity against the pain. The sight of Stephen's face flashed across her vision. It made her want to sob, thinking of how stupid she'd been going out to the law firm alone. If only she were still in his room, sleeping inside his arms. She concentrated on Stephen, on the possibility of seeing him just one more time. The thought gave her a small moment of peace…

…. And then the pain hit again.


	23. Chapter 23

The trio of Stephen, Charles, and Scott exited Stephen's gateway, arriving near Emily's aura somewhere in an abandoned physician's clinic. The linoleum floors were dim with grime and years of scuff marks. Stephen remembered seeing the inside of this place through the Cauldron of the Cosmos weeks ago: the heavy metals doors of old patient rooms, the blank walls, the stained ceiling. He had no doubt this was the place. From down the hall, the piercing shrill of a woman's scream drifted to them, confirming his theory.

Scott raced toward it, but his steps halted in mid-stride.

The X-man stood frozen, prevented from moving. The professor never broke eye contact from Scott, not until the X-man realized Charles kept him back. Scott went still. He held his tongue, waiting on Professor Xavier's order. Stephen could tell it was a struggle for the X-man. Frustration had embedded itself all over Scott's face.

Charles turned his gaze to Stephen, his knowledgeable eyes asking for tacit permission as to whether or not they should proceed.

Stephen shook his head.

Stephen had no idea how many people might be here working for Brian. For all he knew, Brian could be here by himself, lurking around the building ready to work his dark magic on Emily. But he doubted that Brian was alone. The man was conducting unethical experiments, and he'd have a well-compensated team standing by to protect his acquisitions.

It was one of the many reasons why Stephen had wanted Charles with him tonight. No weapons would be fired. No deaths would come of them being here. The last thing Stephen wanted was a building full of innocent workers caught in the middle of a crossfire.

Stephen could tell the professor was torn about how Stephen led this rescue. It was a testament to the trust he and Charles had for one another that Charles had taken a back seat, especially when it was obvious someone was in acute danger. But then the professor hadn't glimpsed Emily's future, hadn't seen what she was going to do the way Stephen had.

Scott had no such reservations. He snarled at Stephen. "After coming all the way here, you still want us to wait?"

Stephen didn't grace him with a response.

Scott's entire body was like a violin string, wound tight with tension. One hand rested on the settings of his visor, prepared to blast anyone and anything into oblivion if they were discovered. The other wrapped itself into an angry fist at his side.

A woman's shout echoed down the hallway. Scott cringed at the sound, but his reaction was nothing compared to Stephen's internal anguish. It was like a feral animal inside Stephen, tearing at his gut, every time he heard Emily in pain.

"This way," Stephen said. "We'll walk in her direction, but only engage someone if they choose to fight us."

"And if they run?" Scott asked.

Charles's voice was a sea of calm as he replied. "I can shut down the mind of anyone who chooses to run. They'll wake up once we leave this place."

The professor's answer seemed to pacify Scott. The men marched down the hall toward Emily's cries. At the T-intersection up ahead, Stephen led them to the right. Another intersection, and Stephen directed them to the left. They continued down the corridors, moving with a united sense of purpose, until they came to another T-junction. Stephen raised his hands to stop them.

Another round of screams ripped down the hallway. This time the sound was close, almost on top of them.

Stephen sucked in a breath, his body rigid. He swallowed his trepidation and waited until the last echoes of his lover's horror dissolved into the quiet of the building. "Her room will be the first one on the right, once we turn this corner."

A second burst of cries, this time less intense, carried over to them.

"Now?" Scott asked.

Stephen nodded. "Now," he said.

The word had scarcely left Stephen's mouth when Scott darted around the corner. Stephen raced behind him.

No one stood sentry outside Emily's door. There was sign of any security guards.

The X-man aimed his visor to blast her door with a steady beam. He fired.

Nothing happened.

Scott tried again, turning his visor to a stronger setting.

Still nothing.

"Emily's powers are preventing you from using your abilities," Stephen said.

Stephen cursed. He should've considered the probabilities once the drugs kicked into her system. He tried to create a gateway, but the sparks died on his fingertips as if he were a novice once again.

Stephen didn't give up. He tried again, his hands weaving the correct incantation. His mind focused on Emily, on getting to her on the other side. But no gateway formed. Beside him Scott had no better luck.

Furious with his impotence, Stephen kicked at the door. He snarled a curse as his foot collided with the unyielding metal. "Her powers are keeping us from getting to her."

Scott joined Stephen in his efforts, but the door refused to budge.

"Does it affect every inhuman power?" Scott yelled over their efforts.

"I don't know!"

"What, you couldn't see that in your crystal ball?" Scott asked.

Stephen thought about punching the man, but decided against it.

He had hoped whoever was inside with Emily might peek out. If nothing else, he or she had to be curious as to what the commotion was outside. But whoever was with Emily was too smart for that. Stephen heard her scream again, and felt rage flow through his body. He was powerless to help her.

Charles rolled forward. "Stop kicking the door," he ordered.

The men stopped. Scott stood back, allowing Charles to move closer.

Charles closed his eyes. "I can't penetrate Emily's mind, but maybe I can get inside her captor's."

The professor placed his fingers aside his temples and concentrated. Precious seconds ticked by. "It like slogging through mud trying to reach this man."

"There's a man inside with Emily?" Stephen asked.

Charles nodded. "An employee of Brian Lawrence. I can't force him to open the door or stop what they're doing, but can peer inside his consciousness. He seems easily swayed by authority. Maybe I can create an echo of Brian Lawrence's voice inside his mind, someone he would willingly obey."

The men waited in nervous anticipation. Scott stood at the ready with one hand glued to his visor.

A few seconds passed, and Stephen heard heavy footsteps coming from the other side of the door. Without a word, the trio tiptoed backward.

Slowly, hesitantly, the door handle turned. The metallic door opened a crack. A middle-aged man with a weathered face and distrustful eyes leered out at them.

Scott kicked it open all the way.

The man snarled as he stumbled. Scott raced to him. The man pulled back his arm for a punch, but the X-man was faster. Scott slammed his fist directly into the man's temple. The man slumped to the floor. He didn't get up.

Emily rested on a cot along one side of the room. An EKG monitor beeped that her vitals were stable. Her face was stained with dried tears. A lump formed in Stephen's throat as guilt washed over him.

"Emily?" He reached out to touch her.

She cried out in fear, her body launching itself against the restrains holding her down.

Stephen blinked back tears and gently unlatched the straps binding her arms and torso. Even with his light touch, Emily moaned as his fingertips brushed against her skin. Stephen could already see the beginnings of several bruises along her bicep where the injections had been given. And he had allowed this to happen to her. For a moment, he saw himself through Scott's eyes. It wasn't a pleasant picture. Self-loathing poured through him.

"Stephen?" Charles laid a hand on his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, nothing."

Stephen lifted Emily in his arms. As soon as her body rose from the gurney, she whimpered in pain. Then, she went limp. Scott and Charles were duplicates of sorrowful concern. Stephen looked away from their stares.

The sound of shoes slamming against the linoleum floors echoed from down the hall. Stephen froze, wondering how he could defend Emily now that he held her.

Scott stepped in front of him.

Those footsteps turned the corner and burst into the room. Brian Lawrence stopped dead as he took in the three men in front of him. His face went white. "Stephen?" Brian gaze went first to his former colleague, and then to Emily unconscious in his arms. "What the hell are you doing…?"

Even if Stephen had full use of his arms and hands, he couldn't draw on any inter-dimensional power. All Brian had to do, once he regained his composure from the initial shock at seeing them there, was call out for security. With Emily's full range of power, Stephen had no way of defending her or his team.

Before Stephen could answer, a red beam slammed into Brian. The older man grunted from Scott's blast. He fell to the floor.

Charles and Stephen pivoted to stare at Scott, incredulous.

The X-man shrugged. "I thought it couldn't hurt to try and use my powers. I guess she can't block us when she's unconscious."

"I guess not," Charles said. He wheeled closer to Brian and closed his eyes. "He's alive, but not in any pain."

"Too bad," Stephen muttered.

Charles eyed his friend. "What would you like me to do, Stephen?"

"Stay here until the police arrive, if you don't mind. As messy as the legal system may be, it's the only way we can be sure Brian Lawrence will be exposed and that places like this will be shut down completely."

Stephen gingerly handed Emily to Scott. "If you could hold her for a moment…?"

The X-man cradled her as if she weighed nothing.

With Stephen's hands now free, he created a gateway back into the Sanctum. On the other side, Wong must have seen it open. He rushed toward the gateway to help.

Stephen lifted Emily from Scott's arms and walked through.

"Good luck," Charles called after him.

"We won't need luck anymore," Stephen replied softly.

The gateway sealed shut behind him.


	24. Chapter 24

The world was an ocean of darkness and pain. It covered Emily, threatening to drown her soul in helplessness. But then, out of the blackness, she felt the lightest touch on her face. The caress was a life raft, silently imploring her to come back. She flinched but latched on to the tenderness outside of her body. And her eyes opened.

Emily was back inside Stephen's bedroom. Her body lay nestled between the sheets. Stephen sat beside her. One hand held hers while the other checked her pulse.

"Welcome back, Emily." His fingers grazed her cheek. "Are you alright?"

Emily sat up in a daze. Even the simple movement of propping herself up on her elbows left her feeling weak. "What happened?"

"Brian Lawrence…" Stephen said. "The injections. Do you remember?"

She closed her eyes, and tears escaped. She nodded. "How did I get back here?"

"Through a gateway. You were unconscious at the time."

"I never should have gone to get my things…"

"It wasn't your fault, Emily. None of this was."

She met his eyes, and for a moment, the pain inside of them mirrored her own. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked.

"Don't you remember…?"

"Not what just happened to me. Not the fact that I endured chemicals being forced inside my body, but everything else. What you saw in my future, your time in another dimension, why you saved me... " Her mouth went dry. She swallowed several times, then noticed Stephen holding out a glass of water. She took it gratefully and washed down some of her anger. "I want the truth," she said.

A flash of something like regret hovered over his face, but it disappeared in an instant. "I did promise you, didn't I?" he said.

"Yes."

He placed his hands in his lap and stared down at them, as if his entwined fingers held all the answers he needed to tell her. Emily set down her glass on the nearby nightstand. She wasn't going to be content with pleasantries and vague, half truths. Not this time.

"Stephen?"

He nodded. Waited. He still refused to meet her eyes. "After I tell you, it will change everything."

Emily reached over to hold his hand. "I still need to know."

Stephen glanced over at her. His eyes reflected a world of private misery. "Very well."

His story began quietly, like a gentle breeze. Then it crested into a surge that swept through Emily's soul. When he got to the part about saving her life inside her apartment, he grew quiet again before bringing it all back together. "You had to live so that the dormant gene holding your inhuman mutation would be activated."

Emily's hands shook. She yanked her hand away from his and inhaled sharply. All of the torment she'd gone through… not just the physical pain that Brian Lawrence had put her through, but the emotional pain of knowing Stephen, her friend and lover, had allowed it. Righteous anger swirled inside of her, threatening to explode. "Wait. You're telling me that…" Her voice cracked. It took every ounce of inner strength she had to form her accusation. "That…. you  _knew_  Brian would take me?"

Stephen's reply was soft, barely a whisper. "Yes."

"That… he would  _torture_  me?"

He didn't even use words now. He only nodded.

"How could you let that happen to me?" Her voice raised an octave. It rang through Stephen's room, coalescing into a cymbal crash of rage. "I thought you cared about me!"

Stephen captured her gaze then. "Believe me when I tell you, I didn't want it to happen. Not to you."

"You could've saved me. You  _knew_  what would happen when I left the Sanctum. You knew where I was going. And you  _chose_  to do nothing." She was shaking now. She tried to stop the tremors, tried to hold herself together, but it was useless. " _You_. Of all people…"

He didn't say anything. She hoped he was burning with guilt, the same way she burned with pain. She turned all of the circumstances over in her mind, breaking them down piece by piece, until no detail remained untouched. Her analysis came out the same: she had been helpless and left to suffer, and he had let it happen.

Emily didn't know what her future held. She had no idea what more was coming. She certainly didn't know what those injections had done to her body. But Stephen knew, and she needed him to help her. That was all she wanted from him now. The trust she once felt toward him was gone. It had disappeared the minute he'd refused to help her in the time of her greatest need.

"Our relationship, or whatever this was, is over." Emily started to cry again, and that caused her to feel even more angry. "I never was stupid enough to believe you loved me, but I at least thought you would protect me."

"I would've done anything to take this from you, Emily. But I had no choice…"

She didn't reply. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen reach for a tissue. He held it out to her. She took it but refused to meet his gaze.

"You saw this conversation, too, didn't you?" She wiped her tears away with the tissue. She couldn't look at him again. She'd break down completely if she did. "You knew what would happen between us once I was taken, and changed." Her voice broke on that last word.

"I did."

A heavy silence fell over them. Emily didn't move, and neither did Stephen. They sat next to one another, each nursing their own hurts, waiting for the other to speak.

Emily stared down at the tissue in her hands. The pliable paper was crumpled. The tears inside had captured so much despair. And in the end, they would be discarded, left alone to waste away.

"Stephen?"

"Yes?"

"If you had to do it all over again," she whispered, "would you?"

She knew the answer before it came, but when he spoke his voice was so soft she barely heard him. "Yes," he said. "And I'd regret it just as much as I do at this moment."

He reached for her, but she slipped away, toward the other side of the bed. Stephen's bed. She felt her skin crawl, just being in his room now. "I want to leave. Not just your bedroom, but your house. This crazy, insane house."

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and almost fell over.

Stephen raced to her, catching her before she fell.

"Don't touch me!"

"Emily…"

Tears of rage fell from her eyes. Her legs collapsed, and she broke down completely. This time, she didn't care.

Stephen held her tightly, even when she tried to push away from him. In the bitter haze of her emotions, she realized her scalp was damp. Stephen's chest shook as he held her. He was crying, too.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," he said. "Just believe me when I tell you, if this hadn't happened, everyone on this planet would be in danger."

"So, it was me or the world?"

He tightened his embrace. "I wish it could've been different. For both of us."

"Me too."

Emily's muscles spasmed. Her legs shook, and she had to grab onto Stephen for balance.

"You need to rest."

"I know. But not in here. Not in your room. Please."

If he was hurt or offended by her need to get away from his room, he didn't show it. He lifted her in his arms and held her against him. "You may want to close your eyes for this."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing happened.

"You can open them now."

She found herself back in her old bedroom inside the Sanctum Sanctorum. The room spun around her. The clothes she had bought right after her apartment went up in flames rested along the back of a chair in the corner reading nook. Her bed was made. She closed her eyes, and the spinning continued. She felt her grip on consciousness wavering.

"Teleportation?" she whispered.

"Thought it would be faster than a gateway."

"You're full of neat tricks."

"So are you," Stephen laid her down on the bed, and her eyes closed. "You'll see."

#

She slept.

She wasn't sure how long she slept. Her dreams were fitful. Blurry figures that looked nothing human sneered at her. They couldn't touch her though. It felt as if an invisible shield protected her.

A huge shadow broke away from the group of figures. It lunged for her throat, her face, but then dissolved right through her. Suddenly, her greatest childhood nightmares took shape inside her mind. Her fear lit on the most vivid nightmare, the one she'd had when she was only five or six years old, of being trapped inside a burning house. It formed into a vivid horror of searing flames and thick smoke, making her freeze in terror.

She jolted awake. Stephen sat next to her.

Her apartment had exploded, right? Isn't that what happened?

No, that was weeks ago.

Stephen reached for her. His fingers caressed her forehead, her temples.

The nightmare vanished. She leaned back into the softness of her pillows and closed her eyes again. This time all the creatures were gone. Her dreams were warm and pleasurable.

When she opened her eyes once more, she was alone. She felt rejuvenated though she had no idea how or why. She lifted herself up to a seated position. No pain greeted her this time, at least no physical pain. The sorrow she nursed from Stephen's betrayal still remained. Time would eventually heal it, but the trust she'd once had in him had been chipped away. She stood to her feet and got dressed.

Emily found Wong inside the kitchen. It brought back memories of when they'd first gotten to know each other all those weeks ago, back when attending a party without back-up had been her major life's concern. How things change…

"Emily," Wong rose to his feet from the table. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

She nodded. "If you don't mind…"

He dug through the full-to-the-brim refrigerator until he found a container of orange juice. "This stuff heals everything from colds to jet lag." He poured her a generous cup with a familiar smile, and she thanked him. "How long was I asleep?"

"A full day." Wong gestured for her to take a seat at the table. "How are you feeling?"

Emily nursed her orange juice, considering how to answer. The truth was she felt great. Better than she had in a long time.

The sound of footsteps entering the kitchen made Emily tense. She knew it was Stephen, even before he spoke.

"Wong, we're going to need…" Stephen stopped abruptly.

Emily sighed and turned to face him. The look of grief on his face melted away her anger.

Stephen came toward her. "Emily…"

"Just…" She held up her hand and stood to her feet. "I don't want to talk about the past anymore. Let's just move forward. Okay?"

He nodded, and she felt both sympathy and affection well up in her chest.

Wong shuffled out of the kitchen before Emily could ask him to stay.

Stephen cleared his throat. "You look well-rested. Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. "A lot better actually." Her face softened as she remembered the bad dreams that had haunted her while she slept. "Thank you for getting rid of my nightmare. I saw some disturbing things."

"Like?"

"Creatures that didn't look human. One was gigantic, and seemed to be leading the others. And one was invisible. The invisible one…" She tried to form words to match the images that had assaulted her mind. "It was like the invisible one was able to pull my deepest fears from inside and use them against me."

Stephen's face changed. "You saw the fear lords. They can't come onto our plane of existence, not physically. They can only possess, but to feed they would need to find a way to come through. That's what almost happened in the courtroom the day you cross-examined Stilton."

"Is Stilton still possessed by these things?"

"I'm not sure."

"Can I fight them off now? Is that why you...?" She couldn't finished her sentence with  _let me be experimented on._  So she waited for his answer.

"Somehow you were able to break through inter-dimensional powers, even before the injections." Stephen flinched at saying the word "injections," but he kept going. "When I saw your future, I saw you able to expel the fear lords back into their dimension. They couldn't come back as long as you were here."

"Then we need to find Stilton right away."

Stephen seemed surprised by her tenacity. "I agree, but I'm not sure you're up for it. Wong and I…"

Emily cut him off. "From everything you've told me, one of you needs to be here to guard the Sanctum. And neither of you is capable of driving off these fear lords as well as I can now."

Stephen studied her in silence. Just as Emily was about to argue her case even more fervently, he nodded. "You're right. I want to protect you from this, but I can't."

Emily felt her resolve to fight him drain away. Before she could say anything more, Stephen continued.

"You're one of the best weapons we have of fighting the fear lords now."

"Then let's go find Stilton. Is he with his father?"

Stephen shook his head. "No. Brian is in police custody, and according to Charles, Stilton is still in the hospital. He's under observation. We would have to go there to find Stilton."

"Which hospital?"

Stephen sighed. "New York Presbyterian."


	25. Chapter 25

It wasn't easy on Stephen, being so close to Emily and knowing she had shut him out. Not that he blamed her. He could only imagine how he might react if he was in her place. Seeing future events and trying to navigate the contingencies was not something he relished, yet it was something he had to do. In the back of his mind he always hoped the future would play out differently, that outcomes would evolve into something more favorable, but they never did.

Stephen hailed an empty cab cruising down Bleecker Street.

Emily frowned. "This will take a lot longer. Can't you just form a gateway?"

"Somehow your new powers interfere with inter-dimensional magic." Stephen opened the door for her. "So, no. I can't."

Emily gazed at him in shock at his admission. That shock carried most of the way to New York Presbyterian Hospital. It reflected Stephen's own troubled musings, one of which was how in the world he could possibly defeat the fear lords if Emily's powers prevented him from using any magic. When he'd glimpsed the future, he had seen what Emily would be able to do, yes. But he had also seen himself fighting at her side. The moment he'd realized her powers prevented him from using magic, he'd been shell-shocked to say the least. Over the last twenty-four hours he had gone back over the details he'd seen when he'd used the Eye the day her apartment exploded. And he knew he was supposed to be able to use inter-dimensional magic next to her. Only now he couldn't, not unless Emily was somehow unconscious. And both of them needed to be able to work together if they had any hope of defeating the fear lords.

When they were almost to the hospital, Stephen tabled his thoughts on his recent magic inability and turned to Emily. "There's another problem we may encounter."

Emily blanched. "You mean, worse than you having no magic, thanks to my powers?"

At the word "magic" and "powers" cab driver glanced at them in his rearview and shot them a wary look.

Stephen ignored him. "Just about," he said. "New York Presbyterian doesn't limit visiting hours, but the patients there create a list of those who can visit. Each list is pre-determined, so no one can just walk in off the street unannounced."

"Oh great. So when we give our names to reception…" Emily began.

"…. Stilton can easily deny us from seeing him." Stephen finished. "I'm positive he hasn't placed our names on his list of visitors."

"And because of me, you won't be able to form a gateway to get to him." Emily leaned her head against the glass of her window and sighed. "Well, this should be interesting."

Stephen didn't mention the fact that Christine Palmer could be working in the ER. He had no idea what Emily's reaction would be to them running into one of his exes. He'd already put her through so much. So he kept the details restricted to their immediate task. After all, he had no control over Christine's schedule. And even if she were working today, there was a good chance they probably wouldn't even see her.

Emily and Stephen rushed into the main entrance of the hospital. Stephen expected to find the usual shuffling of visitors and families congregating in the foyer, the weary receptionists seated behind the desk. But the room was completely empty.

"Okay," Emily gazed around her. "Even I know something isn't right." She glanced over at him, a question on her lips, but it died there. He wondered if she was going to ask him to use his powers, but then remembered he couldn't. "Where did everyone go?"

"Do you sense anything?" Stephen asked.

Emily closed her eyes and frowned. "No, I don't think so."

"Concentrate. See if your newfound powers can sense anything unusual."

She grew quiet, and even with Stephen's lack of magical ability he felt energy leave Emily's body. It radiated outward, past the gift shop and check-in desk and down the corridors toward the E.R.

She opened her eyes. "There's something in the emergency room. It's not human. I'm almost sure of it."

Stephen led the way down the familiar hallways as they hurried to the E.R. It had been years since he'd stepped foot inside the emergency room. He half expected it to look exactly the same as it did years ago, with specialists like Nick on call and familiar nurse's names headlining the white board for shifts.

But when he turned the corner, he didn't recognize the place. The hospital must have been remodeled. The halls had been painted a neutral beige color, and an impressive flat-screen monitor showing patient needs in real time had replaced the giant white board. It would have all been a welcome change except for the fact that the corridors and rooms were completely empty.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Stephen muttered.

He noticed Emily wasn't beside him. She was frozen a few steps back. Her face was deathly pale. "Stephen…"

A fear lord stood about ten feet in front of them. This wasn't one of the bodily forms he recognized from his time inside the fear dimension. This entity was smaller in stature, almost childlike in size, but Stephen wasn't fooled into complacency. Some of the most terrifying inter-dimensional adversaries he'd ever encountered had made up for their size in sheer power.

"I found something you've lost," the fear lord said. Her voice was a soft whisper, almost a caress. She even sounded like a child. Stephen wondered if her voice lured humans into restful sleep before twisting dreams into nightmares.

"I've lost nothing," Stephen told her.

The fear lord smiled, and it made her look even more innocent. She backed away from a nearby privacy curtain to show Stephen and Emily what was behind it.

Christine stood behind the curtain. Her body was rigid, as if time had frozen her in place. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, filled with some unspeakable terror that only she could see. He wondered if Christine was even aware he was in front of her.

"I can no longer bond with my human counterpart," the fear lord explained. "The male."

"Stilton Lawrence," Emily surmised.

The fear lord glanced over at her, but must have seen her as no real threat because her attention returned to Stephen. "But I found our stay inside this building of decay and death to be... quite pleasurable. It's ripe with fear."

"Let Christine go," Stephen ordered. His voice boiled with anger.

The fear lord shook her head. "No. This one may be useful in controlling you and all of your powers, sorcerer."

So, the fear lords had no idea Emily's powers blocked his own. Stephen blew out a long breath. He couldn't admit as much. Even if it might convince this fear lord to let Christine go, she would attack him. And Stephen wouldn't be able to prevent anything her twisted imagination could conjure up. His impotence at helping Christine made wrath churn inside his stomach. Only Emily could save Christine, and he wasn't sure Emily knew how to use her powers to do it.

"Where are the other people?" Emily asked.

The fear lord titled her head to the side to study Emily again, as if annoyed at her unnecessary dialog.

"Where did you put them?" Emily pressed.

The fear lord turned back to Stephen. "Who is this female?"

"Someone you're underestimating," he said.

Stephen had no chance to confer with Emily, no plan on what to do. He only knew he wanted to save Christine, and any other human trapped somewhere inside this hospital.

Emily closed her eyes, and Stephen felt power well up inside of her again. The force of it pulsed from her skin, and he wondered if the fear lord could sense the danger.

"They're somewhere outside our dimension," Emily said. Her eyes twitched, as if she was deep inside the comfort of R.E.M. sleep instead of about to face down a terrifying inter-dimensional adversary. "The fear lords are feeding."

The female fear lord pushed Christine forward, so close Stephen could almost reach out and touch her. "If you deprive us of our meal, Sorcerer, we will kill this one."

Emily's eyes snapped open. "Stephen won't deprive you of your feast," she said. "But I will."

An explosion of brilliant light from Emily's palms slammed into the fear lord. The fear lord hissed and twisted her body until it no longer resembled a human-like organism but an other-worldly creature with flailing tentacles. As the light penetrated the fear lord, Stephen glimpsed images of thousands of humans screaming in agony behind her.

"The hospital staff and patients are trapped between dimensions." Stephen said. He wanted to reach them, to pull them out, but he knew he couldn't. His frustration welled to the surface. "You need to touch it!"

Emily walked closer to the fear lord. Her hands stayed raised with torrents of light flowing from her and into the creature. The shrill wails of the fear lord's pain rattled Stephen to the bone. When Emily was close enough to touch the fear lord, her hand grasped the entity by a tentacle and squeezed.

One final cry rang out, and the creature dissolved back into the fear dimension.

Christine fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Stephen raced to her, finally feeling useful. At least he could utilize his skills as a doctor.

"I'm okay," Christine said. She met Stephen's eyes with a gasp. "Wait, how did  _you_  get here?"

"Long story."

They glanced around them as Stephen helped Christine to her feet. The hospital walls began to flicker as the dimension holding the humans hostage came together with their current reality. The blurred images of doctors and nurses moving through the E.R. and patients on gurneys wavered. Then, their dimension solidified. The people were anchored back, and all around Stephen the hospital buzzed with activity as if nothing had happened.

"They should have no recollection of the event," Stephen said.

Christine frowned over at Stephen. "What event?"

Explaining the paranormal to Christine always seemed to put her in a bad mood, so Stephen smiled and said, "Just visiting a former client of Emily's." He nodded to his new protégé. "Emily, this is Christine."

The two women smiled and shook hands. Christine gave Stephen and Emily a skeptical look, but didn't question their presence any further. It was just as well. Within seconds, Doctor Palmer was being paged. When Christine was halfway down the hall, Stephen took in the scene around him. He tried to draw on his abilities to sense more fear lords, or any inter-dimensional threats. Once more, he failed.

"Do you sense anything?" he asked Emily.

Emily stood perfectly still. She shook her head.

"We should still pay a visit to Stilton though."

"I agree." Emily headed back the way they'd came, but Stephen grasped her hand. She tensed at his touch, and he tried not to take it personally.

"I'm not sure we'll have much luck with the receptionist desk," he said.

Emily frowned. "What should we do then? We can't just go on to every floor trying to find his room."

Stephen strolled through the ER, gazing at various patient rooms until he found Christine leaving a cardiac patient.

Christine narrowed her eyes at him. "You want something, don't you?"

Stephen grinned. "Who me?"

Within minutes, Christine had looked up Stilton Lawrence and found his room. She barely got the information out of her mouth, when Stephen thanked her and he and Emily darted back toward the main elevators.

"She's nice," Emily said. "Your ex?"

"How could you tell?"

"She has that baffled, furious, and affectionate look on her face whenever she speaks to you. I know it well."

Stephen chuckled as they reached the fourth floor. Room 4016 was a private room, complete with a view of Central Park. He expected Stilton's mother to be perched in a plush lounge chair, watching over her son as he lay in his hospital bed. But when they entered the room, no one was there.

"Was he released?" Emily glanced inside the darkened bathroom.

"Christine would've seen that instantly. Besides, his chart's still here." Stephen picked up the metal clipboard. "Elevated blood pressure. Resting heart rate was recorded as being 130 BPMs. That's way too high." Stephen flipped the chart back onto bed. "He has to be here."

They traipsed through the fourth floor, ducking their head into waiting rooms. Finally, Emily grew frustrated with their lack of progress and went to the nurse's station.

"I'm looking for a patient named Stilton Lawrence," she said. "He's supposed to be in room 4016."

The nurse clicked on her keyboard and squinted at the results. "That's right. Room 4016." She frowned. "Is he not in there?"

Emily shook her head.

"Are you on his list?" The nurse waddled back to Stilton's hospital room, but Emily and Stephen stayed behind.

"He's here somewhere," Stephen said once the nurse was out of earshot. "Can you sense him?"

"I don't sense anything… supernatural, if that's what you're asking."

"Can you pinpoint human auras or signatures?"

She gave him a sour look. "Not that I know of."

"Try."

She sighed and closed her eyes. Her face appeared terse at first. Then, her features softened. "He's leaving. First floor."

They found an emergency stairwell and raced down to the first floor. Emily took the lead this time, weaving them in and out of families strolling through the first floor visitor center.

"There!" She pointed to the exit.

Stephen noticed Stilton glued to his phone. He rushed through the automatic doors and down the sidewalk, darting around the crowds to get closer.

A sedan pulled up next to Stilton. The teenager got inside without a second glance, and the car peeled away.

"Dammit," Stephen drew to a halt. He'd been so close.

Emily gasped as she stopped next to Stephen. She bent at the waist, struggling to catch her breath.

"Did you sense he was being controlled?"

She shook her head. Gulped for a breath. "No, but I wouldn't say I'm one hundred percent confident. I wasn't even aware I could sense anything until an hour ago."

Stephen nodded. "All I know for certain is that you dispelled the fear lord who was collecting souls from this hospital."

"So, theoretically, Stilton should be back to his old sociopathic self?"

"In theory."

Emily scanned the patient drop-off area. Stephen had no idea what she was looking for until he saw her run for an empty cab. She hailed it.

He trotted after her. "What are you doing?"

"Going to find Stilton."

He trailed her, cursing his lack of ability to form a gateway. "But we don't know where he's going."

"Yes, we do." She opened the door, and they climbed inside. "His mother wasn't here, and his father is in jail about to be arraigned. Which means he's either going back to his parent's apartment on the West Side, or he's going to his father."

Stephen smiled. Her analytical mind never ceased to amaze him. "And the car Stilton got into was heading away from downtown. So he's not going home."

Emily caught his smile and leaned toward the driver. "Rikers Island, please."

As the cab pulled away from the curb. Stephen turned to Emily. "What if his father is already out on bail?"

"The system is backed up more than usual. It takes forty-eight hours to arraign someone now."

Stephen allowed the sound of the car engine, and the cab driver's upbeat ethnic music to soothe his mood for several minutes. Emily stared out the window, her forehead creased with worry.

Finally, Stephen spoke. "Can we talk?"

She stiffened. "About what?"

"About your abilities. About the fear lord you dispelled. It shouldn't be able to come back. When I viewed your future, it was one of your powers."

She seemed to relax at the prospect of talking about her powers and not their broken relationship. "So if that fear lord is gone, why are we going after Stilton?"

"Either Stilton's abilities, or this trial, is connected to the fear lord's plans. When I was inside the fear dimension, I saw two missing fear lords. If you dispelled one of them, then there's one more on Earth. And this one will be stronger than the last. We have to find it."

"Well, a fear lord should be easy to find, right? Just follow the fear."

"They are intelligent creatures who work as a collective. They have the ability to rest dormant until they decide to strike."

She nodded. "So, that's why the fear lord stayed around Stilton at the hospital. What better place to strike and feed off of fear than a place like that?"

"Or in a place full of criminals. If Rikers has the last fear lord, then we can put this mess behind us."

"This mess will never be behind us, at least not for me." Emily's voice was tight with anger.

Stephen closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry you were changed."

Emily was silent for a long time, so long that Stephen thought she hadn't heard him. Then her whisper carried over the driver's music. "I'm sorry, too."

Stephen settled into his seat. He knew Emily would carry this grief for the rest of her life. And he vowed to help her. If she let him.

But now he had to concentrate on finding the last fear lord and making sure they never came back to Earth again. It seemed too easy that they had found one and had simply exorcised it at a specific hospital in Manhattan. What were the odds the second one would simply be waiting at Rikers for them? There had to be something more to their plan, something he wasn't seeing. And because he knew the way they communicated, he also knew something Emily didn't: they were aware of her powers now. They wouldn't let her dispel them twice.

Emily must have sensed Stephen's concern. "What if we're wrong about the fear lord being at Rikers? I mean, if they work as a collective, would they make it that easy for us?"

Stephen didn't answer. The fear lords wouldn't underestimate her again. He was certain of that. And if the fear lord they had just faced had realized Stephen was impotent in fighting her, she had certainly passed on that knowledge to the collective. If he and Emily had miscalculated, then it was very likely they were walking straight into a trap.


	26. Chapter 26

For Emily, navigating the visitors' area of Rikers to find Brian Lawrence was far less of an inconvenience than trying to navigate her feelings over suddenly having superhuman powers. Spending the last hour fighting the fear lord had been like being hurled into a courtroom with no prep and forced to do mental gymnastics with the world's most sadistic attorney. Only this was far worse. Because now her powers not only eclipsed Stephen's, they sucked his away. It was a sick paradox that their relationship had come full circle into this crazy existence. As she led Stephen to where Stilton had been just a few minutes before them, she was aware of just how insane her life had gotten.

When Emily and Stephen entered the visitor room, Stilton and Maria Lawrence were seated at the long metal table. They looked stunned as Emily and Stephen entered. Stilton stayed seated, but his mother Maria rose to his feet. Her tailored suit almost caught on the edge of the metal table in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

Emily spoke first. "Believe it or not, I'm protecting your family."

Before Maria could form a retort, Brian was escorted in. He looked like a different man in his prison uniform. Dark circles lined his eyes as he shuffled inside. But as soon as he saw Stephen and Emily, his body straightened. His eyes flashed with rage.

" _You."_  Brian clenched his fists and turned to the guard who had ushered him in. "Get them out of here."

Emily wasn't sure she could use her new abilities to search for fear if Brian was so focused on anger. "I just want to talk," she told him.

The guard glanced at Brian to get confirmation, but Brian no longer focused on him. His gaze stayed glued to Emily. He slid into a chair at the table, facing his family. Gone was the exhaustion he'd brought into the visitor room. He smirked over at her. "I already have a lawyer."

"I'm flattered, but I'm not here for you."

Maria leaned toward Brian and began to speak to her husband in a conspiratorial whisper, no doubt wondering why he entertained Emily and Stephen being inside the room.

But Emily tuned out their conversation to concentrate on Stilton. Her eyes scanned him for anything out of the ordinary. Stilton's normal arrogant posture was deflated as he slumped in his chair. His eyes stayed downcast. Emily took a deep breath and closed her eyes to help her focus.

The first time she had ever  _reached_ , as Stephen had called it, she'd been shocked to discover she could sense the energies around her. It was like one of those games she'd played during Halloween as a child, where she'd been blindfolded and her hands had been placed in various substances. Each texture sensation she'd experienced back then had creeped her out, and that same creepiness rose up in her now because this time she could feel the sensations running through her entire body, not just her fingertips.

Stilton had nothing unusual coming out of him. There was no fear at all. If she concentrated harder, she could feel different emotions, but every one of them was human.

She opened her eyes and shook her head at Stephen. "He's fine."

Maria and Brian had stopped talking. They glared at both of them. Maria was the first to speak. "What is the meaning of this? You fail our son at his trial, and now have the audacity to show up here?"

"Speaking of a trial, why is Stilton here and not inside the courtroom?" Emily asked.

Maria's nostrils flared as she placed her hand on the back of her son's chair. "Judge Albright granted the defense a delay because of my son's injury. An injury you caused."

"Oh please." Emily rolled her eyes. A well-worded rebuttal rose on her tongue, but the door behind her opened before she ever got the chance to speak.

Linda Chao strolled inside the room. She took one look at Emily and Stephen and stopped cold.

For Emily, it was like ice water had suddenly replaced the blood in her veins. And for the briefest of moments, she assumed it was her human reaction of having to face the nastiest of her old boss again. But then Emily's powers kicked in. She sensed a dark heaviness filtering through the room. It had started the moment Linda had walked in.

And Emily knew.

"It's Linda!" she shouted.

The Lawrence family looked confused, but Stephen reacted. He threw himself between Linda and the Lawrences, putting his hands out as if he was about to perform a spell. Emily managed to catch his eye, and Stephen flashed a sorrowful smile at her. He wanted to do something proactive, something to help, but couldn't. Emily knew she was the only one standing between the fear lord and everyone inside the room. And knowing that made Emily's body quake.

Linda smiled. It was the exact predatory smile she'd shown Emily back at Brian Lawrence's terrace party months before, the same smile she'd worn when she'd fired her. Emily's thoughts wavered. How much of Linda's actions were from the tenacious senior partner and how much had come from the fear lord who had chosen to flow in and out of her?

"You can't stop this," Linda said.

Linda's voice was no longer her own. It had been replaced with a deep bass. The Lawrences instinctively backed away.

"Maybe I can't stop this," Emily said. "But I can try." She felt energy rise inside of her, the same way it had inside the hospital. She didn't understand how it worked, only that it did. And right now, that was enough.

Linda, or rather the fear lord inside of her, didn't appear worried. Her smile widened. "You have powers," Linda said. "But it will not be enough. Fear will absorb into the consciousness of humanity. It's already begun. Your mortal eyes just can't see it yet. Perhaps we will allow you to see, just a part, before you will die."

Emily gathered the power inside and launched it right at Linda.

But Linda disappeared before it hit her. It hit the wall, dissolving on impact.

Brian Lawrence was the first to speak. "Just what the hell is going on?"

Stephen gazed around the room. Even though he might not be able to sense the fear lords, Emily trusted his instincts. He had battled them before. "She's still here," he said. "I'm sure of it. They need an audience to not only feed upon, but to gain strength. The more people, the better."

Emily gestured around the room, her intuition still on alert. "Maybe it left because this wasn't enough of an audience?"

"Maybe."

Brian had had enough. He slammed his fist onto the table, startling his wife next to him. "That's it." He shuffled to the door. "Guard!"

Stephen and Emily both reacted at the same time. "No!"

It was too late. The guard opened the door. Accompanying him were two more prison guards.

Linda reappeared.

Stephen yelled at them to move, but the guards stood their ground. Brian was in a frenzy, pointing at Emily and shouting. Maria joined her husband in the chaos. Everyone was moving, but Stilton. The boy had crouched under the table, his knees pinned against his chest, rocking back and forth.

Emily didn't know what to do. Her first instinct was to fight Linda, but the teenage boy hiding from the terror growing around him needed comfort. She had a split second to choose, and she wavered.

It was enough for Linda. The attorney grinned, and her image flickered. Emily saw the fear lord inside of Linda rise past her human skin. It was a massive thing that looked nothing human. Scales and multiple limbs flexed with power.

"Everyone, get out!" Stephen ordered.

The fear lord turned to Stephen.

Everyone inside the room froze. Their panic was so thick, Emily could almost taste it. She was sure the fear lord certainly could.

The fear lord's booming voice filled the room. "The sorcerer has no power any more, does he?"

Emily had never once seen Stephen afraid before, but fear flashed across his face now. It was the last image of him Emily saw before the room seemed to crack open. A thick darkness swirled around the ceiling, the walls. The blackness threatened to overtake the entire space.

Emily tried to focus her powers, but failed. In all her life, she had never been more terrified. She had no idea how any of them would ever get out. She certainly couldn't open a gateway, and Stephen wouldn't be able to because of her. All of the people trapped here were depending on Emily to save them, and she had failed.

But the fear lord didn't keep the dimensional rift open like Emily assumed she would. Instead, she grabbed on to Stephen and pulled him inside the fear dimension.

Emily had less than a second to decide what to do. The rift was closing. She took a deep breath and plunged herself after him into the darkness, following Stephen inside the fear dimension.


	27. Chapter 27

The last thing Stephen had wanted was a return trip into this god-awful dimension so quickly. And yet, here he was again. The fear dimension was warm but devoid of light. Soft screams echoed from somewhere. Near him, but too far away to reach, Stephen heard Emily scream in panic.

"Don't!" Stephen warned her. "You cannot feel any fear, or they'll destroy you."

"Easier said than done," He heard Emily whisper. "Can you see it? What they're about to do to humanity?"

Stephen could see it. The fear lords had decided to toy with their prey before devouring them. The images they witnessed were glimpses into a possible future, one he'd viewed inside the Cauldron months before. Now they rippled out from the core of the fear dimension and tore at his consciousness. Stephen was unnerved by the kaleidoscope of fear he saw. He could only imagine Emily's terror.

"I know it's bad." He grit his teeth against the images, keeping his focus on Emily. "But you have to fight against it."

"I can't!"

She was closer than he thought she was. Her voice didn't echo off of the invisible barrier hovering around this dimension anymore. The strains in her shaky treble were almost right on top of him.

"Be strong. This is only one possible future, so don't believe their lies." Stephen reached for her, but his hands came away empty. He pushed down a curse, and turned his body at a different angle to reach for her again, hoping she was behind him. "Your new powers give you a lot more protection inside this dimension than me, if that's any consolation."

His fingers brushed against the softness of her hair. At his touch, she moved closer to him. His hands slipped down across her face, to her shoulders and arms, until Stephen found her hand. He held on tight to her in the darkness. Emily pressed against his body. She trembled in his embrace.

"Are the others still back at Rikers?" Emily's voice was a whimper of fear and pain. "Why didn't the fear lords pull everyone inside?"

"Good question. Focus on that, try to analyze it. It will take your mind off of the fear."

Stephen felt a presence coming from behind them. He whipped his head around and came face-to-face with the fear lord who had played him in chess. The enormous feminine fear lord narrowed her eyes as she studied him. Beside him, he felt Emily tense in panic.

"Stay strong." He whispered to her.

The fear lord hissed as she towered over him. "You escaped."

Stephen grinned. "You noticed."

"It will not happen again."

A black spear of sheer magic appeared in the fear lord's hand.

Stephen pushed Emily away from the spear, but in his haste to help her, he didn't see the fear lord strike. The black spear slashed downward at an angle. Stephen felt the blade go through his left shoulder and grimaced as the icy agony hit.

"An injection," the fear lord whispered. "I made it especially for you."

Stephen wasn't sure what she meant until his mind was taken over. Inside of that spear were possible destinies for Earth, and each one was more horrific than the last. They burned through his mind. He cried out as he fell to his knees.

The fear lord smiled. "Much better. Only one of our kind remains on Earth, but it will be enough. The lords you've tormented here would have a taste of you now."

Stephen's body twisted. He had no idea what being eaten by fear lords would entail until he felt it. Parts of his mind were carefully peeled away, like the skin of an apple. One by one, the fear lords fed on the innermost parts of him. His resolve crumbled. He wished he had just an ounce of his powers inside this place, anything to fight them. But there was nothing he could do.

A blast of white light flew into the fear lord nearest to him. She cried out in a shriek that made Stephen cover his ears. But his pain stopped.

Stephen glanced up to find the source of the light. Emily stood above him, her hands stretched out in front of her. Even though Stephen could read the controlled terror on her features, she stayed in her fighting stance.

"Get the hell away from us," Emily said.

The fear lord formed a second spear.

Emily darted away from the strike. Her hands stayed up, but a second fear lord attacked her from behind. A wave filled with nightmares aimed itself right at Emily. The fear lord threw it at her mind. It hit.

But the images dissolved as soon as they touched her.

Emily smiled at the fear lord's confusion. "My turn." She closed her eyes and concentrated her energy.

The fear lords turned as a unit and ran. One opened a gap to a distant part of the fear dimension, and the other lords raced to get inside. Precious oxygen began to leak out, following the fear lords.

"Take a deep breath, Emily. They can live without oxygen here, but we can't."

The rip in the dimension grew wider as two more fear lords darted inside. As the gap widened, a flicker of magic buzzed inside Stephen. He rose to his feet, wondering how he was able to feel his mystic powers with Emily beside him. He had noticed a similar return of his power inside the hospital E.R. right before their reality on Earth had returned to normal, and also inside Brian's visitor room at Rikers before the fear lord had ripped him away.

His eyes flew to the dimensional tear in front of him. As the last fear lord winked away, the gap sealed itself shut. All of his mystical energy left him again.

They didn't have much time. The oxygen was dissolving at a faster rate now.

"Emily…" Stephen was gasping now. "Use your powers to rip open this dimension."

"How?"

"Concentrate… on Earth."

Emily had started to shake from lack of air.

"Hurry!"

 _If she failed…_ Stephen didn't want to consider that. He closed his eyes. Beside him, he felt heat flowing from Emily in the form of energy. Light filtered behind his eyelids, and the energy grew stronger.

 _Now._  He silently implored her.  _Tear it now!_

A blast next to Stephen made the entire dimension shake. He barely kept his balance. A steady stream of oxygen whooshed toward him. He breathed deep.

"By the powers of the Vishanti…" The incantation flowed from his lips, part spell and part prayer. "…please let this work."

A small spark of power rose from an invisible well inside of him. Stephen opened his eyes and saw the golden wisp manifest inside his palm. It wasn't much, but it was something. And the magic was growing stronger. The dimension was shifting, the same way it had shifted inside the E.R. and the visitor room. And in that small rift, the mystic powers inside Stephen found a way to be free.

Emily collapsed beside him in tears. "I…. I can't hold it…"

Stephen formed a Seraphim dart and launched it at the tear she had created.

The world blew apart.

Stephen was hurled into the air, colliding with something large that slammed into his face. He reached up to shove it away from him, and he felt women's clothing.  _Emily._

He grabbed onto her waist, pulling her near. At first he thought she was unconscious, maybe even hurt, but then her hands encircled his neck. She latched on to him as they flew through the rift.

They landed on polished marble flooring in the middle of a hallway. Behind them, the fear dimension snapped shut.

Stephen stood on shaky feet as he pulled Emily up with him. "Are you okay?"

She let out a shaky breath, nodded.

"Where are we?" Stephen trotted down the hall and saw large wooden doors with the signs for "Men" and "Women" in neat plaques along the top. Public restrooms, marble floors... they could be in any predominantly English-speaking country on Earth.

"My God." Emily took in her surroundings. "I know where we are. This is the New York District courthouse."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"The fear lords function as a collective, so the dimension tore close to the last one on Earth."

Emily's eyes widened. "Stilton's trial! Didn't Linda say it would be televised?"

"Which means an audience."

They raced down the corridor to the elevators.

"Do you know what courtroom Stilton's trial is being held?" Stephen asked.

"No clue." Emily reached the elevator and stopped short.

Stephen was about to ask her why she'd halted, but the notice above the elevator buttons caught his eye. It was a flyer for Toys For Tots, a national Christmas charity for children. But it was early September, not even Halloween yet. "Does the courthouse usually hang Christmas flyers this early?"

"No." Emily's voice was barely a whisper. "This wasn't here two days ago. I'm sure of it."

They pivoted. Stephen saw a young woman in a navy business suit and a tired expression climbing up the stairs. Stephen ran up to her. The woman stepped back in alarm.

"So sorry to bother you," Stephen said. "But do you know what day it is?"

The woman gave him an odd look. "Wednesday."

Emily hurried to Stephen's side. She tried to disarm the woman with a smile, but Emily's smile looked feral. The woman backed up in alarm.

"What's the date?" Emily asked.

The woman frowned. "Are the two of you high on something?"

"Please!" Emily begged.

The woman gazed at them quizzically, but finally sighed. "November 16th."

"My God…" Emily paled.

"The Superhuman registration act," Stephen pressed. "Did it pass Congress?"

The woman nodded, now looking more confused than ever. "That was six weeks ago. Where have you been?"

Emily staggered back as Stephen thanked the woman for her time. He wanted to wait until the woman was out of earshot before speaking, but Emily was too upset.

"Two months have passed?" Emily said. "How did  _two months_  pass?"

"Time moves differently inside other dimensions."

"Then we're too late."

"No, we can't be. I would've seen it."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "How many destinies and timelines can one person have?"

Stephen sighed. "Millions."

"See?"

"Look, whatever the fear lords have planned, it hasn't happened yet, or this world would be in chaos. We just have to find the correct courtroom. The last fear lord is somewhere in this building, or we wouldn't have arrived here. I'm not giving up yet. Are you?"

Emily shook her head as she squared her shoulders. They raced down the stairs to where Emily assured him was a bulletin board listing the different trials for the day. When they arrived at the board, Stephen felt his heart sink. Two of the trials were for "Lawrence."

"Which one?" Emily asked.

"Whichever one will be the most public."

"We know Stilton's trial is televised, but what about Brian's?"

"I don't know." Stephen shook his head. "He's on the board for a chain of hospitals in New York, he's rich, influential..."

She turned to him. "What do you think?"

"We split up. You take Brian's courtroom, and I'll go to Stilton's."

Emily looked skeptical. "Will your powers work with me inside the same building."

"Let's hope so."

They parted, Emily racing to the left where Brian's trial was underway, and Stephen heading to the right. He was positive Stilton was where the last fear lord would be. Fear lords bond with someone they've previously occupied, and Stilton would be their prime target. Stephen would banish this last fear lord, and Emily would be safe on the other side of the building. Stephen just hoped he'd be able to draw from the mystic arts once he got there. If the cameras started rolling, and the fear lord found a way to put the events in motion, a cascade would flow over the Earth, allowing the collective inside this reality on a scale Stephen didn't want to even think about.

He shoved open the door to the courtroom and froze. Stilton Lawrence was seated with the defense. The familiar faces of Foggy Nelson and Linda Chao were with him. One small camera mounted in the corner recorded the lackluster events. Stephen sensed nothing from the fear dimension here, only the vague annoyance of the spectators near him for interrupting.

The fear lord wasn't here. Stephen had chosen the wrong room.


	28. Chapter 28

Emily raced to the other side of the New York District courthouse with a curse on her lips. Brian Stilton's trial  _would_  have to be inside the largest courtroom on the other side of the building. She hurried down the hall, hoping her going in would be just a formality, that Stephen would be battling the last fear lord inside Stilton's trial room, and be done before Emily could step inside.

She made it to the large doors and halted, catching her breath. This was it. Inside this room Brian Lawrence was actually on trial for experimenting on her, for hurting her and countless others. Even if there wasn't a fear lord waiting inside, Emily still wasn't thrilled about seeing Brian again. It had been bad enough being in the same room with him at Rikers, but she summoned an inner reserve of strength and opened the door.

The room was packed with people. There was hardly space inside the galley, but a bailiff stood in the front of the courtroom, the only court official there. One quick glance at the clock told Emily why. It was 8:54AM. The day's proceedings hadn't started yet.

"Well…. shit," Emily mumbled. She took a quick seat and studied her surroundings. The jury box was empty. Both the prosecution and the defense had their teams in place, shuffling through notes and speaking quietly to one another. The prosecution had a team of two. Brian's team consisted of four different lawyers. Emily stifled an eye roll at the excess of his legal team.

She had chosen a seat in the very back, behind the defense, so Brian would have to crane his neck and twist himself around in order to see her. So far her luck was holding: Brian remained facing forward, deep in discussion with his team.

Along the walls of the courtroom, three sets of camera crews were set up and ready to go. Emily frowned when she saw the network names. All of them would gather high ratings on both local and cable news, assuming people tuned in. And thanks to her field trip inside the fear dimension, she had no idea how much publicity this trial had already gotten. She tried to sense if a fear lord was here, but she sensed nothing.

A flicker of gold sparks burst next to her. It faded instantly.

Emily sat up straighter, her heart pounding.  _Stephen._  It had to be him. But why was he trying to make a gateway to her?

Across the room, a second flicker tried to catch but couldn't.

Emily felt her panic rise. Stephen couldn't form a gateway with her here. And if he was trying to form a gateway to get inside this room, there had to be something she was missing.

Emily glanced around her a second time. A man sitting on the prosecution side two rows up looked vaguely familiar. As if feeling her gaze on him, the man turned his head.

It was Simon Lasker, the thrower of fire from Brian's terrace party all those months ago. For a split second, a look of pity or regret hovered inside the man's eyes. But then it vanished and something far more sinister took hold. Simon smirked.

"All rise!"

Emily had seconds to decide what to do. Judge Rollins had entered the courtroom. The jury filed in to take their seats.

Emily twisted her head around, taking in everything.  _What the hell is Simon waiting for?_

Then, she saw the cameras click on.

Simon raised his flaming hands.

Without thinking, Emily launched a bolt of pure energy at him. Simon stumbled. Before he could react, she hit him again.

Simon screamed, a sound of high-pitched agony Emily had heard only once before, in court the day she had touched Stilton on the witness stand.

Without waiting to see what the cameras were doing, she pitched herself forward. People observing the trial next to her scurried away with cries of alarm. Emily ignored them. She had to touch Simon's skin in order to exorcise the last fear lord from this reality and force it back inside its own dimension.

"Order!" Judge Rollins banged his gavel down, then pointed it straight at Emily. "Bailiff, get her the hell out of my courtroom!"

Emily froze. She glanced up at Judge Rollins in shock. He must not have seen Simon's hands, which were now completely human.

"Stop," Emily held up her hands to the bailiff. She pointed at Simon. "This man is possessed!"

A chuckle ripped through the room. Simon looked every bit the innocent victim. He hunched over, grunting in pain at the blow of energy Emily had cast at him. His bowed head pivoted toward Emily. He winked at her.

"He's faking it!" Emily kept heading toward him.

Simon yelped and shied away, using the bystanders seated around him as cover.

The cameras were rolling. A member of Brian's defense team rose to her feet. "Your Honor, this woman is responsible for my client being here today. I call for a mistrial."

The last thing Emily wanted was Brian's freedom, but if the trial happened to be postponed or even canceled, then this fear lord might never be able to get the response it needed in order to feed. Its plan could even fail. Emily noticed the perplexed look on Simon's face and realized he had come to the same conclusion. Relief washed over Emily.

The bailiff was next to her now. His rough hand landed on her arm. "Time to go," he said.

The doors to the courtroom burst open. Stephen ran in. He took in Emily being escorted by the bailiff, the cameras… then his eyes darted to Simon.

Simon stood to his feet. His hands burst into flames.

Everyone panicked. The cameras titled directly at Simon, capturing everything the man did for their live stream. It made Emily want to scream in frustration. All of their hard work could be undone by anything Simon did, and there was nothing she could stop it.

Stephen leaped over the bench Emily had just occupied and shoved her and the bailiff out of harm's way just as a ball of flame struck the spot where they'd been standing.

"Sorcerer," Simon pointed at Stephen. Fire engulfed his hands in seconds. "How nice of you to come."

Emily went on the offensive. Her body contorted as she threw her own ball of energy at Simon.

But Simon was ready for her. He leapt out of the way. The ball of light Emily had thrown at him slammed into the bench he'd occupied instead, causing it to dissolve.

Emily swallowed hard. She had no idea her powers could cause material objects to disintegrate. What could happen if she accidentally hit someone?

"Emily," Stephen jumped toward the cameras, trying to aim them away. "You need to create a dimensional tear."

" _What?_  How the hell do I do  _that?_ "

Simon launched another sphere of fire at her. Emily placed her hands up, forming a protective shield that covered both her and the people cowering on the bench beside her.

Stephen yanked down the nearest camera. "Just imagine you're punching a hole in a wall, only bigger."

 _Right. How hard could that possibly be?_  Emily would've rolled her eyes if she'd been less terrified. Those had to be the vaguest instructions she'd ever been given. Yet she still had to try. She concentrated on ripping through time and space and threw her energy at the nearest blank wall. A hole the size of a sedan formed, thanks to her. But their dimension remained intact.

"Try again!" Stephen had shut down the second camera. He struggled to get to the third.

Simon must have noted Stephen's strategy. He moved to get closer to him. His fists once again morphed into balls of flame.

"Stephen, move!" Emily tried to get to him. There was no way Stephen could defend himself against this fear lord.

But Stephen didn't move. Instead he turned directly toward Simon. The last camera recorded every minute detail, even as the woman operating the camera's feed shook with fear.

"Stephen! What are you doing?" Emily kept moving, pushing through the screaming crowd.

"It ends here," Stephen said.

"Are you crazy?" Emily rushed to get closer, but it was like swimming upstream in a turbulent river of water rapids. Every single person inside the room was trying to out, blocking Emily's way to Stephen.

Simon raised his flaming hands and grinned. "You have no magic to defeat me, sorcerer. I look forward to feasting on your soul."

Stephen closed his eyes in defeat.

"No!" Emily had no idea what she was doing. She just knew she had to do something. She balled up her hands and closed her eyes. From a well deep inside, she forced every emotion rising up inside of her to the surface. Every ounce of fear, of hate, of love, of rage… it all boiled to the forefront of her mind. With a cry born from all the courage she had to give, Emily surrendered to her powers.

It sounded like the world had split in two. Emily no longer felt human. It was as if an entity made purely of energy had taken hold of her spirit and now fought the battle for her. She opened her eyes. She couldn't even see Stephen or Simon anymore. All she saw was a thick haze of white. It spiraled through the room and out into a hole that had formed in the ceiling. It ripped through the room, the building, the world.

Simon let out a feral yell as he tried to raise his fiery fists against the onslaught of darkness coming from the hole Emily had created.

The camerawoman held onto her tripod for dear life as the hole grew larger. In front of her stood Stephen. And in Stephen's hands were twin orange rings of magic.

Emily gasped in relief. She'd done it. There was no other way Stephen could have drawn on his power unless she had opened a rift between dimensions. She felt weariness flood her body. Her powers grew weaker.

"Don't stop yet Emily," Stephen ordered. "Your power is the only thing holding the tear open. Hang in there."

Emily pushed through her pain, trying to keep a grip on to the opening she'd created, but not knowing how. "Hurry!"

Stephen flung the orange rings at Simon. They flew as discs directly at the fire inside his fists.

Simon grunted in pain. His fire disappeared, and his gaze was purely human as he gazed up at Stephen. "Please… don't hurt me."

The camera aimed its lens at Simon. The man looked human, but Emily took once look at his face and knew Simon's pathetic plea was a ruse. After all, the fear lord had an audience watching. And it was still inside of Simon. This was it. She only had one chance.

Emily gathered her last reserve of strength and pitched an energy bolt at Simon. He staggered. With a snarl, his facade dropped like a lead weight. He attempted to rise to his feet, even with Stephen's magic encasing him.

Simon's voice lowered an entire octave as he spoke directly to the camera. "Your planet is ours to harvest. You cannot win."

Emily strode up to him with a smile. "Watch us."

She touched Simon's face.

The fear lord inside Simon went wild. An ear-splitting hiss erupted from Simon's throat. It sent chills down Emily's spine. But she held on, her palms burning as the fear lord finally slipped its hold from Simon and flew into the dimensional rip Emily had created. Stephen raised his hands and sealed the dimensional rift shut.

All magic left the room. Everything went still.

The camerawoman's arms shook as she lowered the video camera she'd been using to film the entire exchange. "Oh my God, that was insane," she whispered.

Stephen nodded to her. "Would you mind if Emily and I said something to your audience?"

"No, not at all." With trembling hands, the woman brought her camera back up.

Stephen gifted Emily with a soft smile. "We need to tell the world what's really happened. Are you ready?"

Emily exhaled slowly. She took his hand. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The camera light clicked on.

Emily took a deep breath and stared directly into the lens. "I know what everyone has seen here today has been frightening. You feel like your powerless. I know I felt that way. But thanks to inhumans, the creatures that tried to drive fear into humanity's consciousness and use that fear to put the whole planet in jeopardy, are gone now. They terrorized both this courtroom. They terrorized politicians. And they terrorized innocent citizens here in Manhattan, and God only knows where else."

She swallowed, breathed. "What I'm about to tell you will be hard to hear, but you need to understand what has happened so that humans and inhumans can work together. Inhumans aren't the enemy. They're human, just like you, with the same hopes and dreams and fears."

It took a long time, but Emily told her story. It was a story of betrayal and longing, but mostly it was a story of vanquished fear. And as she spoke, Stephen stayed beside her.

#

It was late afternoon inside the Sanctum when Emily finished packing up the last of her meager belongings. She zipped the duffel bag Stephen had loaned her with a sorrowful smile. She didn't have much anymore. Then again, she wouldn't need much where she was going. Charles Xavier had said she would have her own room, but that would be the only thing she wouldn't be sharing inside of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.

A gentle knock sounded on her bedroom door. Emily looked over her shoulder to find Stephen leaning against the frame.

"Charles and Scott are here to take you to Westchester," he said.

Emily nodded. She slung the duffel over a shoulder. "Sorry I'm preventing you from forming gateways."

She strolled up to Stephen. He stood straighter at her approach. Emily hesitated as she stopped next to him, trying to come up with the right words to say.

As if sensing her uncertainty, Stephen enveloped her in a hug. "It's okay."

She inhaled the scent of him. She didn't want to let go. "I know."

"You'll be an amazing teacher."

She smiled and broke away from him. "I've never taught practical law before. Studied it, yes. But taught it? To teenagers?" She shook her head with a laugh. "This should be interesting."

"You'll do fine. And if any of those kids gives you a hard time, just bring them here to the Sanctum."

"A few hours in this house would definitely be better than any detention I could give them," Emily agreed.

She glanced around her, taking in her bedroom for the last time. So much had happened in the last few days. After their televised speech, humans began to protest the witch-hunt against inhumans. There was a call for Simon Lasker to be questioned, perhaps even imprisoned, but the man had vanished. No one seemed to know where he was.

The president was now considering a veto on the Superhuman Registration Act. Senator Kelly was so incensed by the change in attitude toward inhumans that he wouldn't stop venting on Fox News. It was a shift that seemed to be surging through the United States and heading to Europe and Asia. The tide had turned, thanks to her and Stephen. At least for now.

Emily shook her head. "I can't believe this chapter of my life is over."

"I'll always be here if you need me."

Emily touched his face with her fingertips. Tears filled her eyes. "Stephen Strange. The man with a broken soul but a big heart."

"Our destinies lie on different paths, but we'll meet again. I promise."

Stephen leaned in and kissed her cheek. His lips were feather-light against her skin. She closed her eyes, savoring this last intimate moment with him. No matter what happened in the future, they would always be friends. And it would be enough.

When Stephen pulled away, melancholy graced his features. "Believe me when I tell you that you have a better life, and love, awaiting you where you're going."

"You know, even after our speech in front of the cameras, there are people on Earth that don't believe we saved them."

Stephen nodded. "You wouldn't believe how many times you'll experience that lack of gratitude."

"Is it worth it?" Emily asked. "Using our powers to save humanity, even if they don't care?"

He smiled. "Absolutely."

She wrapped her arms around him for a final embrace. "Thank you, Stephen."

He whispered into her hair. "You're welcome."

The walk down the last flight of stairs was a difficult one for Emily. Even seeing the welcoming smiles from Charles and Scott did little to quell the nervousness rising inside her chest. But despite it all, she felt complete. She certainly felt more fulfilled than she had while she'd been a lawyer. And she had a home now. Two homes, if the Sanctum still counted, and she believed it did.

Scott took the duffel bag from her hand and headed to the car. Wong stood by to give Emily one final farewell hug before helping Charles to the limo. Emily glanced behind her and saw Stephen still standing on the steps.

"Goodbye, sorcerer supreme," she said. "I'll come back someday."

"I know you will."

She gave him one last smile and turned to walk into her new life.

THE END

* * *

**First of all, THANK YOU to everyone who read and left kudos for A Strange Case. I have been ridiculously busy these last couple of months, but every time someone enjoys what I write, it brings a big smile to my face. You guys are the reason why I do what I do, and I'm very grateful for all of you.**

**When a writer creates a story, there are times when everything falls into place. You can feel the plot practically writing itself, you can hear your characters speaking to you about exactly where they want to go. "Strange Beginnings" was like that. Those are wonderful instances in a writer's life, and it's something we writers savor because it doesn't always happen.**

**Sometimes your story doesn't turn out the way you want it to despite all of your best efforts. Sometimes you try to get things back on track, but it feels like an uphill battle. That was how I felt as I finished up "A Strange Case." Sometime around the mid-point, I felt it spiraling out of control. The pacing felt off. The characters wouldn't do what I begged them to do. And nothing I did seemed to pull it back in. I just hope this story hasn't disappointed anyone.**

**Thanks again for reading "A Strange Case!" And I hope all of you have a very happy holiday season!**


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